Sweet Nothings
by Timid Offerings
Summary: "You can't just think no one remembers, Kenny," Butters said, sadness etching into his sweet, innocent baby-looking face, "Especially when I'm someone who does."
1. Chapter 1

**Sweet Nothings**

The first time I ever had gone over to Butters' place, I had just gotten into a fight with some local people I hadn't really bothered to remember. I hadn't gotten any first-aid stuff in a while, and I was running low at home, only enough for a few minor cuts and scraps.

Butters' place was the closest place I knew of when I had gotten into that fight. I had trudged through the ever-present snow to his place, only to climb up into the tree next to his bedroom window. It was an old tree, and it had a grove in the middle were it split off into four big, different winding branches, so I had thought to myself I'd just spend the night in that tree.

Even though it was close to one in the morning, Butters had happened to be wide awake. When he heard the scraping and clawing and leaves being rustled around like it would when someone was climbing it, he had decided to take a look. With a damn flashlight. That motherfucking flashlight had been a little too bright.

I had moved an arm over my eyes to be able to continue life with sight.

"K-Kenny?" Butters said. "W-What are you d-doing here?"

"Ugh... Hi, Butters. Trying to sleep in a tree?" I answer.

"Why don't y-you come inside? It'll b-be warmer than out there in the c-cold."

Sometimes I could swear that kid wasn't all that innocent. But as I looked at him now, he seems genuinely hopeful that he'll get to have someone around for once. No body I had ever known had ever slept at Butters' place, except Cartman when he was pretending to be a robot called Awesom-O, for the fact of his parents more than the fact it was Butters. But I decided to take up that offer of his.

"Sure, fine." I tell him, and he moves away from the window so that I can crawl through it.

I wasn't so sure why I took up his offer. I honestly don't know, but I had always been fond of the boy who had light blonde hair that bounced on his head as he moved. And the light blues of his eyes that told you that even if he didn't react too much to anything mean said to him, he still felt the pang of a dull pain that washed away as soon as the topic switched to something that wasn't about making fun of him. How he was so cheerful, even today, although his crazy bitch of a mother had tried to kill him, confused the shit outta me. I'd always be fond of the kid, just because he radiated something I couldn't muster up well enough.

That love for the life he has been given even though he's made fun of a lot.

Something I don't think I would ever be able to dim.

I also didn't want to go home yet, didn't want to deal with my drunken parents yelling and fighting. Or Kevin, for that matter. As fun as it is to watch them all fight with each other, I couldn't do it tonight. The only person I cared for in that house was Karen, but thankfully tonight and for the next three to five days she'd be at Craig's house, spending the night and days with his little sister Ruby.

And Craig was with Tweek for that time, so I didn't have to worry about Karen and him being in the same house.

I told Butters as much, and he didn't seem hurt that I didn't say anything about being happy to be around him. Even if it was just a little bit of happiness, I was happy. But he had also understood that with the way my household runs, that it made sense for me not to open up and like people too daringly much.

And he's also close to Karen, but not in a romantic 'I like your sister, can I go out with her?' kind of close. He braids her hair and hangs out with her after school while I work at some convenience store so that she doesn't hang around the house much and possibly fall into the rut of it all. I like that about him. He had gone to the convenience store a couple of months ago, about a month after I had started there, and noticed Karen. Asked me if he could possibly take her to see a movie or go to the park or Starks Pond, as long as it was okay with me because he knew that she was only there so that she didn't get caught up in drugs and alcohol like me or my parents or Kevin. I was awfully good about my own drug habits and alcohol consumption, so much so that I could even possibly go to college if I had enough money to do so, though I was working towards it, and I never did anything like that around her.

And I knew Butters wouldn't dare do anything to her to harm her. He also didn't do any drugs or alcohol. Or at least as much as I did. I'd smoked with him a couple of times, seen him drunk once, but he said that's as much as he's ever done otherwise. All in three years. And he wouldn't dare think of introducing Karen into that shit.

So I said yes, and ever since then he's been taking her every she wants. Shopping and going out for food or to go to a new movie or something of the like. He's been having Ruby go along too, although she has her own money, because Karen just didn't like being around Butters all by herself, even though she knew he was only taking her places so that she had things to do.

That must be why I find myself snuggled up against a warm Butters at around three in the morning after being allowed a shower, food, and bandages for my cuts and scraps.

XXX

For about nine months now, I had been going over to Butters' place, through the window, just to see him and talk. Talk about just how school and family life was going, see how we were handling it all, and talk about all the new misfortune brought to the town of South Park, even though it was nearly like anything else that happens in this town. Sometimes we wouldn't talk at all, but it wasn't awkward or anything. It was a peaceful type of silence. A silence that said you are welcome to talk if you want, but there wasn't a huge need for it.

And we always found ourselves snuggled up around each other before we fell asleep, and then a mess of limbs tangled around each other when we woke up.

I wasn't so sure what compels me to talk to him about things like that. I'm no open book. But he must of cracked me open just a little just to hear if anything good or bad was happening in my life. And for me to _snuggle_, of all things? That was just plain odd. I never did, and I've only done that after fucking some hot chick when I'm just too tired to try and leave about three or five times. Or when Karen would have nightmare at night. But I found myself and him snuggling and cuddling and all that shit almost three out of four weeks in a month. Every time I was there, that's what would happen as we drifted off to sleep.

_**AN:**_

_Okay, so this is short of a drabble, isn't it? I guess so._

_This is just the starting chapter, more close to an introduction than an actual meaningful story yet. I was thinking of putting it as a one-shot, but it might be a two-shot. Maybe multi-chapter?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Sweet Nothings**

A week after the last time I had found myself at Butters' place, I'm working another graveyard shift at the convenience store. It's slow and making me irritable, more than usual. I wait on costumers that go in and out of the store, usually just big blurs of truck drivers passing through and needing a drink.

Two costumers catch my eye, though, and it's making me smirk.

"Whatcha two doin' here?" I say, leaning onto the counter in front of me.

The first response I get from either one of them is the redhead flushing with a bright red blush, almost matching the colour of his hair.

"Shut up, Kenny," Kyle says, moving his way to the back of the store. I sigh. I know he knows I work here, so what's the big deal?

"Hey," I say, turning to the brunette that decided to stick closer to the front.

"Hey, poor boy," Cartman says, grabbing a chocolate bar.

"Have you two killed each other yet tonight?" I ask as the redhead comes back to the counter, clutching a box of condoms and lube, his blush now even brighter than his red hair, if that's even possible. I raise an eyebrow at the contents he places on the counter, but he's avoiding my questioning eyes. I ring them up nonetheless when he answers my earlier question.

"Surprisingly, no, we haven't, Kenny." I sputter and cough at Kyle's answer.

"Any kind of fight at all tonight?" I knew they had come here together, seeing as both their houses are pretty far from here and there's only one car in the parking lot other than my beat truck.

"If you call kissing in such a passionate, almost-suffating way a fight, then yes." Cartman answers me. Kyle still won't look at me, but when Cartman finishes his statement, he whirls on him.

"We haven't talked about saying anything yet, fat-ass! What makes you think that's an okay answer to give when we haven't talked about it yet, you stupid fat fucker!" I smirk as Kyle's blush turns into one of anger rather than bashfulness.

"AY! I'm not fat, I'm big-boned! Jesus, can't you at least deal with Kenneh knowing? He works here, he's a pervert. He's bound to figure it out in the most awkward of places and just ask if it's fucking true in the middle of school, yelling it more than fucking likely. So what's the problem, Jew?" I look at him weirdly, sense I was only expecting Cartman to call Kyle by his name in that weird ass accent like he does with my name and other words.

"Like I care, fat-ass." Kyle says, rolling his eyes.

"Wouldn't it be weird if I had yelled that in front of Stan if he hadn't told me?" I pipe up. Kyle finally meets my eyes.

"Well... Yeah... But-"

"Then it's good I know now. I'll make sure not to say anything in front of Stan until you guys tell him, if you even do at all." I hand Kyle the things he payed for in a bag. "Have a good night, Kyle and Cartman." I say, winking.

"Night, Kenny." Kyle says, a blush creeping back up to his face.

XXX

I wake up in Hell a while later, at Satan's house. I'm sprawled out on the couch, and I hear Damien and his father, Satan, talking about whatever the fuck they talk about. In no time at all Damien shuts his father up and states he's going to watch TV in the living room. That's where he finds me on the couch, ordering for me to sit up and move out of the way a bit so he can sit down. I do as told.

Damien hasn't changed much since the last time I saw him. His dark black hair is bed-ridden but brushed-looking, as if coming out of it from a good fuck and brushing his hair, and slightly curling at the nape of his neck. He still wears an obsessive amount of black, although Pip had been successful in getting him to wear red or blue at times, sometimes green even. He's slightly taller than me, an inch or two at the least.

"Where's Pip?" I ask him, although I don't plan on getting answered. He looks at me like I'm insane, and points up, indicating that Pip's still up in the human world.

"Where the fuck do you think, man?"

"Well, yeah. But I thought he might be here hanging out with you." He nods, and doesn't say anything else.

Pip is Damien's boyfriend, obviously. That Brit sure knows how to pick them, that's all I've gotta say. The Brit with blonde hair just a little darker than Butters, but lots lighter than my own blonde hair. Blue eyes and an attitude that just wants to please people, much like Butters as well. Except when you call him Frenchie. Bitch freaks out on your ass for that. I like him quite a bit, that Brit, fond of him like I am with Butters, but not as much. And that's because the last time Cartman called him Frenchie in seventh grade, he beat absolute the shit out of Cartman without any of Damien's help. All Damien could do was watch until it was over, and then only have the Brit follow him to get cleaned up since he had gotten dirt and Cartman's blood every on himself. Much to say that after that, no body picked on him nearly as much as they had before.

"How long?" I ask him.

"Three or four days." He says, shrugging like it's no big deal, and I just get up and leave to go off and sit at the Park Satan decided to build a couple of years ago for the 'kids-at-heart' people that are sent to Hell.

I think back to the last couple of hours as I sit down onto the surprisingly soft wooden bench that looks over a small pond of lava.

I had gotten off work two hours after Cartman and Kyle had bought the lube and condoms, and Cartman the chocolate bar. Midnight, not many cars or anything up at the moment. Eerily quiet with the exception of the whirling trees in the brisk, cold wind of the night. The only light came from the two lamp posts outside and the store. In all honesty, I hadn't expected to be run over by some drunken asshole who'd O.D. in his car just before flying into the store I'd been leaning against, smoking the small bit of weed I had left on me. I lived the the crash actually, and I had been pulled out from the wreckage by none other than Butters, who'd just happen to be walking his dog.

Sweet thing, that dog. I had found him, and his sister, in a box that said 'FREE PUPPIES' scribbled onto it quickly and soaking wet from an ally way behind Tweek Tweak's house. But Tweek had no dogs, and being the spazzy nut-ball he was, couldn't have one. That left me to figure they'd just been left there to fend for themselves without the Tweaks', or any close by neighbors', knowledge. I had picked up the cute, hungry little Pit Bulls and taken them over to Butters' place, the only place I could think of. But even the Scotchs would melt for them to stay, so I knew it was a good idea. Butters feed them and nursed them back to health with the help of Karen and Ruby, along with the veterinarian visits. The male puppy, Tough he was named, stayed with Butters. And Snow, the female puppy's name after much debate between Ruby and Karen, went to live with Ruby for the seer fact that we McCormick's are famously poor.

Tough had heard the crash and ran from Butters, though didn't get far away from Butters since Butters is notoriously fast. Scary fast. Kid runs like his life depends on him running from some sociopath serial killer. It'd only been about a minute after the crash had settled down that they got there, and I was crawling limply out from under the overturned car that didn't put much of it's weight onto me. I lost a leg in the damned crash, I knew and felt it, and when Butters saw me he rushed to help me the rest of the way out. I flipped onto my back, and rested my head onto Butters awaiting lap, awfully warm for such a freezing cold night.

"J-Jeez, Ken... Your leg..." He sniffled, and I felt tears dripping onto my face and closed eye lids. I had reached up and petted his hair slightly, ruffling at it before gripping it and pulling him into a kiss. He was still crying when I let him pull back, although he had kissed back. That much I could be happy about.

I had no idea what had gone through my mind in that moment. Honest, I didn't. I just felt so bad for him, knowing he was crying like that over the fact I'd lost my left leg. Which was bleeding profusely, blood spreading out over the asphalt and streaked onto it from my crawling and Butters help of moving me away from the wreck. I didn't know what else to do but kiss him. I knew I liked him, however small and pushed back the crush was, but I knew it. I admitted it to myself at least. I didn't, however, know if he liked me back. But I kept my grip in his soft, light blonde hair.

"It's fine, Buttercup..." I heard myself saying, pulling him in for another kiss. His lips tasted like strawberries. And he kept kissing me back, each and every fucking time I pulled him back for another. "I'll be back soon, with both my legs firmly attached to my godforsaken body."

I found myself telling him between each small, sweet and grossly heartwarming kiss about how I always came back, even if I burned to death. Or was eaten alive by rats. Or froze to death. I told him about that one time I turned into a zombie, and Kyle had sliced me in half with a chainsaw, on Halloween.

That one at least got him to laugh, even if it was breathy and short unlike his usual one.

Soon enough, I hadn't even needed to pull him down for kisses. He was bent over, not moving back anymore because he knew, even with my weakening grip and pull, I'd just keep doing it until I flat out O.D. on him. And I didn't have to kiss him first to get a kiss at the point, either. He was kissing me, like each and every kiss before, sweet and small and humorously, grossly heartwarming. I kissed back of course. He was still crying, but I knew why. He was going to lose me; he knew it at the time at least. I knew he cared for me more than he liked to let on.

Now he probably doesn't even remember I was in the wreckage.

But that time was nice. Better than Heaven or Hell's entertainment. Tough had laid next to my right side, in front of Butters, and kept whimpering a little every now and then. Even though it was a blizzard kind of cold, I was warm from that damned sweet dog and kissing the innocent male called Butters. At some point, I couldn't respond to the kisses. My hand that had gripped Butters' hair until the damned fucking body part had fallen limply to my side, though Butters continued to give me kisses. He knew I wasn't dead just yet.

Then he pulled back, petting and slightly ruffling my hair, whispering, "I'll see you soon, Kenny."

He said he'll see me soon.

Wait.

What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

_**AN:**_

_Okay, so hey there whoever there is out there! I'm actually very happy with the way this turning out. I'm sorry for the wait and all. Writers Block hits me hard so quickly and for so long. Blah._

_This is the very first actual chapter. I wanted to start the whole story with some other thing. Prologue? I'm not sure if I should call the one before this one that. But whatever._

_And thank you Tellequelle and Montana-Bob for those reviews. Made my day. The day I posted it and I get a review saying it's good? Gosh, just fucking thank you! And to top that, I had written the first chapter at three in the morning, running on nothing. So, I'm glad it turned out so good. Also, this is going to be a multi-chapter. I didn't know what it was going to turn out as until the second chapter, which I'm now finished with. But I like it. A lot. _

_Oh, and I'm going to be moving into my step-sister's apartment in the next two weeks while my Dad, little brother, and my step-mother are leaving to Vancouver. Packing must be done, and I honestly can't sleep with how excited I am about moving in with her. So ensues another sleepless written chapter. Might get one or two other chapters in before I move. Thought I'd tell ya._


	3. Chapter 3

**Sweet Nothings**

I wake up in my dingy old room in my battered piece of shit house after three days, my head swimming slightly as I get up. I hear nothing above my room, meaning that my parents and Kevin are sleeping and nursing away a hangover from last nights drunken party they went to. I put on my usual parka, although I often don't bother with wearing it much nowadays, and some gray jeans, ready to fucking get out of there before any of the three mentioned people in the house wakes up.

It's a weekend, meaning no school. I decide to pay Butters a visit, since he told me a few weeks back his parents would be out of town for some reason or another for the next two weeks. Meaning I can just go there at any time I cared to. Besides, I want to see him after my latest death. And the look on his face looked as if he's seen me die before, but that it hurt to see it over and over again, hurt me on the inside. I really just want to go and see if he's okay. He's seen it before, but I had never seen him directly after an event such as that. Even if I died on a school day, I wouldn't ever be able to find or see him after that for a few hours. He'd just surprisingly show back up, stating he was there the whole time. Even feed me lines of what the teacher said. I had no choice but to believe him.

And I need to figure out what the fuck he meant when he said he'd see me soon.

But more importantly, I haven't died in a little over a year. I'm a bit shaken up myself, but not from the fact I haven't died in over a year.

I've already run into the making-out '_couple_' Kyle and Cartman as I make a short cut to Butters' place, and a queasy Stan. Stan looked as if he had just seen a fucking ghost. I smirk at him as I pass, and he glares right back at me for it.

Leave it to him to find the two supposed worse enemies having a face battle.

I throw open the door once I get to Butters' place, and rush up the stairs to his bedroom. I find that tell-tale sign that one room is Butters' room, that Hello Kitty sticker-riddled whiteboard that's stuck to his closed bedroom door. I throw open his door, slamming it onto the wall behind it, surely creating a hole just a bit bigger than the door handle. I see Butters jump, but slumps back down without looking up to see, more than likely assuming that it's his parents opening it because they like for it to be open when he's not sleeping or grounded for god knows what. Then I look at Butters more closely, and see he's dressed as Marjourine. Or at least, half way dressed as his female self. And he's crying, holding onto the big turquoise teddy bear I gave him a couple years back after his time being a wonderfully nice 'pimp'. Nobody knows about the teddy bear but me and Butters. A little thing that says I care without everyone knowing it, too. Well, not so much a little thing. It's literately bigger and taller than Butters, and usually is kept in the corner of his room closest from his bedroom window so peering eyes won't see it immediately.

Imagine my surprise when I found out he's kept it for all these years.

But Butters is in that corner with the teddy bear, his innocent big blues sobbing out in heart-wrenching pain. He's trying to say things, but it's lost in the soft fabric of the teddy bear as he holds it close to him. He's mumbling incoherent words and phrases as he sobs into the bear. The white dress that's freckled with random green-looking flower things we gave him for the slumber party we had him go to back then still fits his slim feminine form, somehow, but rides up to reveal striped panties because of the shortness of the damned thing after he's grown so much since then. His hair is done in those green little bows just like they were when he showed up at school dressed as Marjourine for the first time.

"Butters?" I say, walking into the room a small fraction of an inch, then deciding to lean up against the door frame, a worried look plastered onto my face.

His sobs stop for a second, but he doesn't dare look up. Then all of the sudden, he starts balling even more furiously than before. I listen as closely as I can, only now realizing how hard it must have been for most people not to be able to make sense of my own speech when I wear my orange parka.

Butters mumbles against the teddy bear, hugging it ever more tightly. "Every... one... Said he won't come... back..."

It hits me harder than being run over, hit by lightening, and torn apart by a chainsaw all in one second. He remembers my deaths. That's why when I return he's always a bit unable to speak more than usual or he tends to stay away a bit more for a few days. Not because I scared him off with some inappropriate thing I said or did. But because he'd remember them.

He fucking remembers my deaths.

A loud sob from the Butters jumps me out of my thoughts, and I go over to his side. He stiffens as he feels my arm around him, and tenses even more when I pull him into my lap. I take out the green bows, even though I've seen them in his hair so often I've grown to love these damned frilly things, taking his hair and ruffling it around some to get it back to it's normal shagginess. After I toss the bows off to some odd location in his room, I pull him close against me into a hug. His arms lay between our chests, though he grabs massive handfuls of my parka for such tiny hands as his.

"Butters, please stop crying," I say. I reach up with one of my arms and pet at his hair.

His god damn hair is softer than a damn baby's. I'll never get used to that fact. The first time I ever felt his hair was three years ago, when I found him at Starks Pond. I hadn't heard him crying, and I was a bit high, but nothing too bad. Without thinking, though I wasn't doing much of that in the first place, I had reached out and ruffled his hair up, leaning over and smiled brightly at him from his left side. He turned his face over enough that I suddenly lost my smile, and asked what was wrong. He only shrugged, turning his head back in the general direction of the pond. I had flipped over to sit on the cold bench, and grabbed his face to face my own. "_Damn it, Butters,_" I had said, "_Tell me what's wrong_." He had tried to tell me no, tried to turn his head away, even tried to get up and leave; I wouldn't let him, though. I forced him to sit until he told me. Which wasn't easy. He tried to tell me it was nothing, to leave it alone, but I still didn't let up. A couple a sorry tries later he tried to lie to me about whatever it was that had him sitting here, silently crying. Tears had still run down his face for hours after I got it out of him that Cartman was just being a fucking retarded asshole to him again. I had held him for the first time in my life, just to try and cheer him up. It had worked a little bit. After I had wiped his tears off his cute little baby face he had kept all these years, I took him out for some pizza and a movie. I only had enough money to get us pizza, but he seemed more than happy to get us to be able to go see a movie with each other. I guess you could say it was our first 'date' of sorts, since we went out to eat and see a movie or something more than a handful of times. After I had dropped him off at his parents' house that night before his damned unreasonable curfew his strict parents had set, I went over to Cartman's and just went ballistic on his ass. He was almost completely black and blue and purple by the time I was done with him, and at school the next day after the bruises settled they seemed almost like a supernova explosion across most every part of his body. I've never told Cartman the reason for why I beat the shit outta him was because he had made Butters cry. I had even beaten him so fucking badly I made Kyle worried about whether or not Cartman was okay. I like to think I was the reason they got together and became fuck buddies.

It's been like that for three fucking years. Cartman makes Butters cry, I go and beat the holy living fuck outta him and won't tell him why, Kyle takes care of him 'til he gets better, and then Kyle's practically glowing from the what the sex does to him. The moment they had even fucking kissed, I knew they were at each others throats in more than one kind of physical way. Kyle won't admit it's true, but I know. Cartman has told me on more than one occasion about the sex and sneaking around to go have little dates out in Denver during long breaks and the summer, ever since Cartman had turned sixteen and got a car as well as his license. Little over a year ago was when the dates they'd have started. One time they went for a trip out to Yellowstone, too, and brought back pictures. They had insisted that they had just happened to have planned the same trip at the same time to have that trip together while the other three Broflovski's and Liane had tripped to a different place, although said their family was there. I only got that detail when I was alone with Cartman for more than a few measly minutes.

I had begun to tell Butters the facts of the two once he started noticing why Kyle was glowing and practically _willing_ to be around Cartman for more than a few seconds, and that their fights had diminished enough for him to notice. I told him almost unwillingly because of how detailed I can be with the details Cartman gave me to work with. I like Butters being innocent, I really do. Makes for some good entertainment, watching him try to figure something out and then cringing ever so slightly. When I had told him from the beginning of it all, I kept most details out until he almost choked me to death with his begging for those details. I was still unwilling to do so until about the two hundredth incident I was telling him about. He only cringed slightly when I talked about the two supposed enemies going at it like fucking rabbits. Anything else that was even slightly perverted, he openly paled and left the room to go throw up, kind of like Stan except Butters is more likely to swallow his fucking vomit down during school or anything else public than Stan is. He finds it gross to do, but he says it's worth trying to learn to get used to it.

Two weeks ago was a marathon of perverted thoughts that crept up in my head that I just spilled out into the open without thinking for a second, and he had only felt the need to swallow his vomit back down twice! I was proud of him for that.

"Hey, remember two weeks ago?" I say, still holding onto a shivering mess of nerves that was Butters. I feel him nod against my shoulder. "You know I'm taking you out to Disneyland, right? You said you've always wanted to go! I wanted to surprise you with that news, but I think you deserve to know now."

With that Butters looks up at me, his big blue eyes shinning with hope. His normally clear, white face is streaked with angry red tear marks, and his eyes are so blood shot it's make the most stoned man on the planet look like he was completely sober. A blindly bright smile forms across his face, and I can't help but to smile back with the brightest one I can muster up.

"For real?" He asks, although it's utterly clear he's freaked that I really did come back like I told him I would. But he has the biggest smile on his face that I've ever seen. A smile like the Cheshire Cat off of _Alice In Wonderland_.

"Of course, baby!" I say, "Why would I lie about something like that?"

With that, Butters throws his arms around my neck and pulls me into the most suffocating bear hug I've ever gotten, pretty effectively cutting off the oxygen flow to my brain. I let him keep up the pressure for a few minutes, hugging him with almost the same amount of strength. I smell that sweet scent that is just so Butters: Vanilla and that odd scent of butter mixed in, and that butter smell stronger than the vanilla. That gets me to figure he had taken a shower and hadn't bothered to put on some Axe or whatever it was he wore. But I'm nowhere near complaining. I love this smell, because it's just so... _Him_.

Just when I'm done thinking that, he releases his death grip on me and pulls back slightly to rest his forehead against mine.

"I've been wondering..." He says, "Why did you kiss me the other night?"

Shit. I knew why and all, but... I just didn't think he'd ask me about it. At all. I thought, in all honesty, that he'd forget that I'd died, which meant erasing anything related to it. Except the crash itself. I blink a couple of times, trying to figure what in the fucking fuck I should, or more likely _could_, tell him. Then I blink a couple of thousand times before my brain decides that saying "Umm..." is perfectly acceptable in this situation.

Butters is nowhere near giving up, though. He want's an answer, and by fucking God, he'll being getting one even if it means he has to torture me to get it.

"Um..." I continue just to blink, try to think, and look in his eyes as he looks back into mine expecting something for me.

He sighs, and turns his head to the side a small fraction of an inch, closing his eyes. Suddenly his lips are on mine, and I just can't think any longer. I stop thinking and kiss him back. It's a simple little kiss, like the other ones we shared that night a couple of days ago, but it does at least get my mind reeling forward and give me something else to say.

"Because I like you, Buttercup," I say once we part, "Probably since Hawaii, kiddo." I kiss his sweet little lips again.

_**AN:**_

_Welp, the beginning of this chapter was meant to be put into chapter two, but I felt like that was just going to be placing too much at one go. At least for so early in a story. By the end of this story I'll be typing around ten thousand words a damned chapter. I already went up from 1,300 or so words in chapter one to 2,200 or so words in chapter two. Aside from my AN's... Woo-oh! And in this chapter I went up to 2,600 something with the word count outside of my AN. That's not much, but... Yeah._

_A bit of advice: I've never in my goddamned life ever stepped foot into Florida, aside from the possible 'I was two and was meeting family I had there'. Other than that possibility I've never been there. From that you can guess with utmost certainty I've never been to Disneyland. I just felt that would be a place Kenny would take our cheerful little Butters for something like that. I shall research to the best of my ability to give you a Disneyland chapter later on._

_Thank you to the Guest person who reviewed my story. That was nice of you. I'd like to be able to give an actual shout out for you with a name, but I can't as of right now, can I? But you know who you are, don't cha?_

_And thank you Montana-Bob for that review you gave me. It makes my day brighter knowing I'm making people happy with my story._

_I watched the episode "Going Native" where Butters goes to Hawaii with Kenny the other day, and I almost lost my damned mind when I saw them holding hands, even if it was just to drag Butters off to the door or the chick at the counter! To top that off, I was practically going insane with laughter, completely losing my fucking shitty excuse of a mind when Butters was going off on Cartman and everybody else. I've seen that episode so many times it's not even funny, and I still start giggling and laughing and clapping like some retarded seal at the circus who can't for the life of themselves figure out they're already on the floor fighting the blankets around them just to continue watching the show before they die from lack of oxygen to their brain. That right there is how bad it is. It's probably worse than I realize, considering I make sure I'm in a well padded area with pillows scattered upon the floor or are already sitting on the floor to make sure I don't fall of the couch laughing and brake my arm or something._

_That leads me to ask: Do any of you readers believe I'm insane from reading that last bit above of my AN?_

_I need to know if I am._

_Also, I'm sorry but I couldn't think of anything else to add to this chapter. I'm saving our sweet, shameless smut scene for later on._

_Anyways: TIL NEXT TIME, YA'LL._


	4. Chapter 4

**Sweet Nothings**

I honestly didn't know how to react after last night with Butters.

After I had calmed him down with my Disneyland idea, which I had truly thought of before that night because I really did want to surprise him, I tucked him into bed, making sure to remove the Marjourine outfit off of his slim body before putting him into a pair of Looney Tunes-themed PJ's that still fit him after shuffling through his closet to find something for him to wear. After wards, I decided I'd go down into his kitchen to eat something. I made whatever the fuck I made, ate, took a shower in his shower, and curled up into his bed with him.

Now I'm awake, hours before Butters, however odd that may be. I'm just sitting here on his bed with said boy curled up on my side, his breathing so even and peaceful compared to his hysterical sobbed breathes from the night before. It was awfully peaceful; the little birds outside were chirping as the sun slowly made it's way up into the sky, the snow reflecting the light off of the snow, gleaming with a bright orange-ish pink tint from the sky above. A calm before a storm, the calm after the storm. That's how it was, and is. It was calm and peaceful and just absolutely filled with laughter and fun before I died a few nights ago. Then the storm hit, where Butters absolutely lost it and had gone into a fit of sobbing cries while I was gone, according to Red when I texted her if she knew anything since the day I had 'left'. And now?

It was pretty calm, to say the least.

I sigh involuntarily, leaning back up against Butters' headboard.

It's been peaceful for years, actually. Nothing in South Park is going crazy. The town actually seems to be able to live awhile without being destroyed in less than a week, and it's newest record is a fucking total of six months without _something_ happening in this godforsaken mountain town. Everything's quieted down drastically, ever since we got to High School.

After the whole Hawaii thing back when we were younger, I had absentmindedly been having Butters around me much, much more than usual. We hung out some, though nowhere near how much we did now of course. Played video games and stuff at Stan's or Kyle's, sometimes even sneaking into Cartman's to play some of his games as well as eat his food without him knowing.

And once we got to sixth grade, our little group of four grew to add a new member, our little Butters Scotch. I was happy that everyone had stopped being such pussies and telling him to shut up all the time and finally let him hang out with us, even though to this day I'd catch myself telling him to shut up at times. Cartman had, in all honesty, not been super pleased with my pleading (Yes, I was reduced to pleading. So fucking sue me.) to have Butters initiated into the group. Neither did Stan or Kyle for a little part of the whole deal. Those two actually cared a lot for Butters and essentially said that they were fine to add the boy from the get-go. For them, it wasn't going to be a problem. The Scotch boy had grown to defend himself quiet often, which made them believe me even more so than they already knew, that he was defiantly a great friend. Cartman, though, wasn't so ready to bring the kid in completely until just about Christmas time when I finally gotten him to realize, along with Butters at my side saying he was fine with doing so, an initiation of sorts for a week was going to happen if he just says yes. Kyle and Stan, along with plenty outside of our immediate group like Craig and Tweek, with Token, Bebe, Clyde, and _even _the Goth kids, weren't so sure about having Butters go through an initiation because of how Cartman was. But once I got Cartman to agree to that, I set up rules that made it so Butters didn't have to anything horrible during that week of initiation.

Those rules were simple: Under no circumstances were you to make Butters do something he's awfully scared to do unless it has no repercussions (i.e. his parents finding out or himself getting hurt while having him do things or utterly embrassing himself. Much to Cartman's dismay.), and everyone already in the group were to take turns unless one task called for everyone being apart of it. Once the rules were established, we set the rotation circle, beginning with Cartman and ending with me, while Kyle and Stan were in between in that order. After that, we posted signs along the school's hallways for everyone else to watch out for Cartman (Though that was never said on said poster/flier/what ever you want to call it.), with the rules on there as well as the rotation circle with the dates on which the initiation would occur on the top of the paper in big, bold letters that caught the eyes' attention. That week was awfully amazing. Since we had to ask Butters whether or not he felt comfortable doing one thing or another, we had wanted Butters to dress as a maid that whole week, though he could show up to school normally dressed so that his parents wouldn't know about it. What had taken us all by shock, the whole school mind you, was that he wasn't scared to do that. At all. Our whole group went out and bought the outfit, though not before having a few fights over what the outfit would look like with school dress code to abide by (Much to _my_ dismay.), and a few unrelated fights between Kyle and Cartman.

With those two in sixth grade, and seventh and eighth, you could almost _taste_ the sexual tension that was in the air between themselves. I, along with Stan and Butters, were consumed with comments filled to the brim with urging the two to get it over with and just fuck each other senseless by the time we started High School. The first time I beat Cartman up for being mean to Butters and making him cry was what got those two to finally listen to what everyone, even the teachers' for fucks sake, were telling them to do. "FUCK EACH OTHER ALREADY!" Was what Pip had practically screamed at them just before I had found Butters that day at Starks Pond during a fight the two were having.

It was just another fight that had somehow ended up with the two esteemed Worst Enemies Gone Lovers battling it out after school, both rolling and hitting and throwing random kicks in where they could. Neither really wanted to punch the other, for once, in the face that day and were just screaming profanities at each other along with the occasional, "Get off me, fat ass!" from Kyle and a smart-assed retort from Cartman each time, with said fat ass adding a new nickname to his vocabulary for his favorite Jew to pick on. "Make me, Princess." was one of the only retorts I can remember the fat ass saying back to Kyle with the new nickname in it just before I slipped off to go get high at Starks Pond.

Apparently, after I had slipped away from the massive crowd that had gathered to see if one or the other would finally kiss the other, they had soon gotten out of their rolling-on-the-ground fight with Butters pulling Cartman off of Kyle, which lead to the fat ass saying something that I still have no idea as to what that made Butters run and cry at Starks Pond. Oddly enough though, according to Bebe, after Butters had lost it and cried running from the scene, it had shocked the two future lovers into a calming silence and that they went off to their individual homes without any further comments spoken aloud.

A beautiful thing to hear, really.

Then I beat the holy living fuck outta Cartman after talking with Butters.

The next day, fat ass didn't fucking show and Kyle was pissed that I beat him because he was chosen to go give Cartman his homework for the day, and every day he missed. Then, surprisingly, Kyle had said sorry the next day to me for being upset that I had beat the fuck outta Cartman. That was when I knew that fat ass had just taken took much pain medicine or was a bit drunk and had kissed Kyle and told him how he felt (Which Cartman would never do unless he was absolutely, completely and utterly senseless as to what he was spilling out of his mouth in a heartfelt confession of, love, I guess.). I had smirked at Kyle and said thank you to him, which thankfully to him I did without Stan, or anyone for that matter, being around at the time. That was the only and one time Kyle had ever told me anything between him and Cartman in wholesome honesty. That was all they _got_ to do, a simple little kiss and holding onto each other as Cartman spilled his heart out to his beloved Jew, before Cartman passed out.

After that it was fucking rocky as fuck. Cartman had actually been drunk, substituting alcohol for the painkillers he didn't have to ease the pain from the bruises and the deep but non-life threatening cuts I left him with even if that meant a killer hangover the next day. That was why he had told Kyle he loved him when Kyle had gotten there. So, the week he got back, Kyle wasn't so happy. He barely had the energy to fucking give back a simple "Fuck off, fat ass." retort to Cartman's anti-Semitic and racist sayings.

Of course, though, before Cartman got back, fat ass at least _knew_ that something had occurred the day Kyle first came over because of the fact Kyle was willingly going over and making sure he was okay and feed him (Even though Liane was there to do that herself.). He just didn't know what it was he had said.

So, when he came to me asking what the fuck had happened in a scared, quaky voice after Kyle had actually told him he could shove his feelings up his tight, egoistical ass after being unnervingly quiet all week, I knew he just _couldn't_ remember what he had said to Kyle that day.

"_What the fuck did I say to that fucking Jew to get his tight little Princess ass to tell me that my _feelings _needed to shoved up my damned ass?" _He had said.

So, I told him what Kyle told me. I told him, _"You spilled your fucking ass heart out to the poor kid and kissed him, for Christs sake! I don't honestly know what you told him word for word, but that's a simple and to the point answer, fat ass. Your own fault you had to get drunk instead of take the pain like a goddamn man." _His face after I said that. Oh, fuck, was it priceless. Butters, who had been sitting next to me munching a little on my munchies I had because I was high at the time, had immediately sprung up and snapped a picture of Cartman's fallen, paled face on his phone once Cartman heard that he had told the Jew he was apparently trying to keep from actually liking him in any way like that, or even as a friend, that he loved him. Liked him. Whatever. Was just basically killing himself inside over the fact that he couldn't have his favorite little redheaded Jew. Then they had long ass motherfucking talks for a week and being relatively nice to each other during that week, and worked out that they should take it day by day without anyone knowing. Though they knew I knew, they pushed the thought from their minds anyway.

Which, somehow, leads to me this. Staring at my phone after getting a text from Kyle.

_I'm fucking pregnant, Kenny. You know who's the father. _

I practically screamed bloody murder even though I knew Butters was still sleeping next to me. But I couldn't handle that kind of fucked up information without someone else. Thankfully Butters is a mildly deep sleeper, meaning that if someone shook him he wouldn't necessarily wake up, but if someone screamed or an alarm clock went off, he would.

"Wh-What's wrong, Ken!?" He said frantically, shooting up in bed. I kept staring at my phone in pure and utter shock, and he got the message that he needed to look over and read the text.

The next thing he did, I wasn't expecting at all. He screamed and stumbled back into his wall, since his bed was right up against the bed. I laughed, finally able to get my own brain working, though slowly.

"Who do you think is the father?" I asked as innocently as I could.

"Y-You!" He screamed, pointing at me.

I laughed so hard I fell off the bed. I kept laughing and laughing, my laughter being refueled over and over again as Butters gave me the most innocently confused face I've ever seen. "Check... Who..." I tried, "It was... From... Butters!" I couldn't keep still. I was rolling over and over on his soft tan carpet flooring, holding my sides and crying. I was laughing so hard it brought tears to my eyes.

"Oh..." He says finally after he reaches for my phone that I left on the bed and re-reads it all, including to read who sent it.

That gets me going all over again.

"I swear, if I die right here and now, I will be the happiest man on the fucking planet, Butters!" I say between gasps for air and my laughter.

"Why is that?"

"I'll be able to say I've literally died of laughter!"

"You better not die on me again so soon, McCormick."

I stop laughing long enough to look back at him, seeing his index finger pointing at me with as much of a menacing glare the boy can give me. Which makes me laugh all over again. I just can't stop. By now I'm pleading with Butters to forcefully make me stop laughing, to which he does nothing to help.

Then he throws a six hundred paged book he has lying around, which he likes to read every so often when he's alone and doesn't have homework or chores or _anything_ to do but read it, at the back of my skull. I immediately stop laughing, but I'm also not so happy what his choice of weapon was.

"HEY! That fucking hurt, kiddo!" I tell him, not really yelling at him.

"So? To get you to stop l-laughing, I had to make you m-mad." Fuck. He's damned right.

"Well, couldn't you have chosen a lighter hard covered book, then?"

"It was t-the closet o-one."

"Oh." I say. "Hey, toss me my phone, will ya, Buttercup?" He nods and tosses, and I catch it.

_You just made Butters think I was the father, btw. Nice going. Got hit with a six hundred paged book for laughing at his reaction. Anyways... How in the fucking fuck are you even? Dude, did Mephisto do something?_

I send the text back. I got up off the floor and crawled back onto the bed with Butters, and I scooped him up into a hug and kissed him before I let him turn over to see the new text Kyle sent just a second ago.

_Oh, shit, really? I might hit Cartman with one now 'cause he's laughing, too. But sorry, dude. And yeah, I'm pretty Mephisto did. Me and the fat ass were drunk a couple of weeks ago up around Mephisto's place._

Butters laughs at the mention Cartman getting hit. He takes the phone from me and sends Kyle a text.

_Ya goin' ta go talk ta Mephisto? Also... CAN I COME WITH YOU? As well as Kenny? - BS_

_Sure, Butters. Fine by me and fat ass over here. We're going later on this week, Friday at like, four or five pm. And, yes, Kenny can come along as long as he keeps his mouth SHUT around Stan for as long as I can hide this shit._

_Yay! Thank you, Kyle! And I'll make sure that he keeps his mouth shut. - BS_

I laugh.

_Good. I don't care if you have to forcefully shove your damned cock down his throat, kid, just as long as I don't have to cut his off for saying anything. - EC_

That makes Butters pale considerably, so he hands me back the phone.

"Are you going to be sick, Buttercup?" He shakes his head.

I smile, and text back, _Shut your fucking mouth, fat ass. If anything, Kyle will be having his down your throat faster than you can say "SHIT!" while running from cannibalistic Smurfs. And I'll use duct tape if I have to to be quiet around Stan._

_Haha, funny, Kenneh. Fine by me if you use duct tape, poor boy. … Cannibalistic Smurfs?_

_I went to go see the Smurfs 2 with Butters the other day, had a dream where they were chasing one certain redheaded Scott Tenorman (The very one you feed their dead parents grounded up in chili to) being chased by cannibalistic Smurfs. Don't ask me._

_OH, SHIT, REALLY? CANNIBALISTIC SMURFS EATING HIM? That's... That's the most beautiful thing I've ever heard, Kenneh._

XXX

The next thing I knew, it was already the Friday Kyle said he and Cartman would be going to be seeing Mephisto about this.

This week fucking flew by, let me tell ya! Monday wasn't as weird as it could have been. Kyle seemed normal, but I knew he wasn't. Thankfully Stan didn't show at the bus stop this morning, so I asked Kyle if he had had morning sickness when he had asked me for a piece of gum. Since nobody but me, Butters, and Cartman and Kyle themselves knew so far (As well as Wendy and Bebe because they just happened to be right the fuck in front of Kyle when he realized he was getting morning sickness. So they had to tell them everything, though leaving out obvious details.) To which he responded in a weak-ish "Yes". Then on Tuesday he just went from one mood to the next in almost .000001 seconds every couple of minutes, sometimes able to hold it off until for an hour or two while around Stan. By Wednesday, I noticed he was wearing his baggier sweaters more than usual, to which he told me when I asked that I could go suck his mother's nonexistent cock for how many fucks he didn't even fucking give a shitty fuck for. He told just about everyone off that day with variations of the same sentence. Even to Butters, though tuned down despite how pissed Kyle really was. On Thursday, Kyle wasn't talking. Even when Stan asked if he just wanted some apple juice or milk. He was pissed at something more or less than everyone else. Finally, today, he wasn't as bad as the others because he couldn't wait to figure out what the fuck that crazy sonofabitch Mephisto did to him.

"Hey, Kyle. Cartman." I said, walking up to the two, dragging Butters along with me, holding his hand as I do. Even when I stop in front of the two said boy's, I keep hold of his hand, which he doesn't seem to mind much about.

It's three ten, a few minutes after school let out, an hour or two before we're all going to go up to Mephisto's laboratory, or whatever the fuck it's called again. Honestly, I've got a few things to say to the motherfucker myself. Mostly just because I'm pissed beyond all reason that he _used_ two of my best friends (Though Cartman's not a _huge_ friend of mine.), when they were unreasonably drunk. It really pisses me off when someone uses someone when they're drunk. Aside from messing around and drawing on them, since I'd be a hypocrite if I minded that, too. But I've never used anyone's drunkenness to get someone to do something that they'd normally never do.

"Hey," Kyle says, holding onto his usual green hat that Cartman's been forcing off his head for years now.

It's still a sight to see, that curly red fucking hair of his. He cut the "Jew-fro" as Cartman called it off a couple of years back, and since then it's never gone back to being a "Jew-fro" even though he's grown it back out. Now it's shaggy but soft and hangs around is his ears and slightly brushing his jaw, framing his face so beautifully it's to fucking _die _for (Yes, I'd fucking die just to get hair like that.), swaying and sticking off in random places were a section of the curls ends. Apparently, it's fucking soft as fucking fuck, according to Cartman.

"Poor Boy," Cartman says, nodding at me and Butters. His hands are stuffed into his pockets, presumably just to ween himself off of touching Kyle while he's fucking _pregnant_. God, just the thought has my mind reeling! I just can not for the many life's of mine wrap my mind around how exactly Mephisto got that to work.

"So, are w-we going to go eat at Subway b-before we go to Mephisto's?" Butters asks, probably from the whole fact he didn't eat lunch today because he let me have it all, though I fought with him every step of the way to try not to eat it _all _myself. I failed horribly so, but hey, what can I say? The kid's damned persuasive when he damn well feels like it.

Kyle smiles, and I think to myself that today's been a far better day with his moods than the rest of the week. "Yeah, we are. You wanna go right away?"

Butters shakes his head, "No, not if your not r-ready to go. I don't wanna pressure ya." Damn, that fucking stuttering and fucking accent of his. I swear, it's probably the number one thing that's gotten me off in the past week. That, and his fucking cute little habit of rubbing his knuckles together.

"Well, I am pretty hungry. You ready to go, guys?" Kyle says, and I find myself nodding enthusiastically while Cartman grunts out a sweet-sounding yes as we set off to walk towards the only Subway in the town.

Throughout the walk, Kyle keeps near Cartman and I keep near Butters while still holding his hand. For Kyle and Cartman, not many would be able to understand the type of relationship those two have, even after growing up with them for so many years. They still get into physical fights and still bash on each other, more than usual. Must lead to the most explosive sex, or something to that effect, of the this whole damned dimension we live in in the universe. But aside from that, they won't tell people of their relationship because of how bad certain people will take it. Kyle's mom would freak and send Kyle off to some other planet after killing Cartman in the most slowest, painfullest way first while Kyle's chained against his will and forced to watch. Then there's Stan, who would probably throw up, have a hissy fit, and then go off and play guitar with Ike to calm himself down after punching Cartman so many times in the face it would put _my_ beatings of the fat ass's face to shame. So, considering that those things would more than likely happen if others found out, they don't do any PDA.

On the other hand, there's me and Butters. When we said we were dating earlier this week, everyone, and I fucking mean _everyone_, was actually fine with it. No one made a big deal of it. My parents were fine with it, and so was Kevin, Karen being the one to say she was expecting it. My parents said that I should start pulling my grades up higher from a D to somewhere close to a B so that I could start looking at colleges if I planned on staying with Butterball (My family's little nickname for the kid.), and making him happy. They said they understood that even if I didn't, Butters would still be happy no matter what, but my family and I all agreed that Butters deserved a bunch more from me than being some poor motherfucker who couldn't pay bills or really do _anything_ at all and couldn't do anything but keep fucking his brains out. Though I'm not sure why my parents think we're fucking when Butters is so innocent I'd rather fuck a fucking pig than hurt him, but that's besides the point. I'll fuck his brains out in good time.

I keep holding onto Butters even though I feel a little guilty Kyle can't have that sort of affection while in public. Especially with all he's going through, he'd probably really want some affection outside of their rooms.

So when Cartman takes Kyle's hand in his when we enter Subway, it takes me for a loop. Kyle blushes, but doesn't pull his hand away and yell at fat ass for doing that, not complaining that he doesn't want him to touch him, all the while meaning it's sweet he's trying to show some affection in this little crisis that they don't have a fucking clue what to do about without actual words as he would normally scream at Cartman for touching him. Kyle hold's Cartman's hand nonetheless, speechless and blushing hard, as we all order what we want and go find a table to sit at.

We get so many weird looks I think Kyle might slap Cartman soon. There's no body but Stan's mom and dad here that we know too terribly well, and they seem to shrug it off. But the looks we get from everyone else is a little unnerving, even for me. When we sit down at a table next to a window, I'm thankful Cartman lets go of Kyle's hand when he starts to eat, using both of his hands unlike what he'd normally do.

"What exactly are you two going to say to Mephisto when we get there?" I ask as I take a bite of my sandwich.

"Oh, um... Really, I just wanted to yell at him a lot. Then ask him what he did to get this to work, and then try to figure out how to go about this. I've already decided I want to keep this baby, so abortion or setting the baby up for adoption is completely out of the question." Kyle states before biting into his sandwich.

Cartman nods, "Yeah. We've already talked about that. And I mean, even though it wasn't with our consent, when the hell would we get another chance to have a biological child? You know what I'm saying?" I nod.

"I can understand that. But, I wanted to ask Mephisto if it's something that could be easily redone. There are so many couples who would die for this chance and I've always wanted to have kids, whether or not they were completely biological or not to me or the other person I'd end up being with." Butters states.

"Who the fuck ever said I was going to brake up with you at all?" I question.

He turns to me and says, "I didn't m-mean it like that, Ken. I've always thought that, way before I knew you even liked me. I didn't know if we'd ever get together or anything of the l-like, so I just assumed I would have a baby with _someone_. Whether I married the girl or not, I would still love the kid I'd be able to have. If Mephisto says it can easily be redone, then maybe I could have a kid with the one I love, damn it! If I fell in love with anyone but you, male or female, I'd still like it if couples who actually couldn't have kids of their own to be able to look f-forward from then on, knowing it didn't matter what their gender was to be able to have kids together."

"I get where you're coming from, Buttercup," I take a sip of my drink, "I didn't mean that it that way. It'd be fucking amazing for those couples to have kids that are completely biological to them. I just meant... Who said I'd let anyone else have sex with you? I'd be fine if you just had to cum in a damned cup and all that gibberish and shit, and have a baby with the woman without having to fuck her. That's all I meant by that."

"Oh, that's okay then."

"But if Mephisto can redo it, you're carrying the baby." I say, earning a flabbergasted reaction from the other three people around me. "What?"

"Who said I have to carry it?!"

"I did."

"That's n-not fair!"

"You think I'll let you fuck _me_ up the ass? I'm the Seme, you're the Uke." I take another bite of my half eaten sandwich, swallow, and finish with saying, "That's just how it will be."

"F-fuck you, too, Ken."

"You know you want me to fuck you, Buttercup," I say, smiling and sticking my tongue out at him. He just huffs and turns his face to the side, nose high in the air with his arms folded across his chest, a light pink blush forming on his cheeks.

"Well, who knew they'd actually want kids with each other, huh, Kahl?" Cartman says, poking his boyfriend lightly in the side.

"Yeah, pretty shocking, Cartman," Kyle laughs out, swatting away at Cartman's hand as he attempts to keep poking lightly into Kyle's side.

I smile fondly at the two across from me and Butters.

If their kid is anything like either of them, I will absolutely love the death outta the kid.

"Hey," I pipe up, getting their attention, "Who's going to be the godfather?"

"Um.. Well, you, Kenneh. More than likely, even if you end up still being poor, you'd still do your best to give the kid just about anything to him or her. I've just got to say this – Don't corrupt our kid. Our kid turns up as much of a pervert as you, I'mma beat ya after I tie ya down." Cartman says, mimicking Butters' accent at the very end of his sentence. I laugh with Kyle and Butters at Cartman's threat.

"I promise to try my best not to do that." I say, then lean over across the table a little, "But that only counts if you have a girl, right, Kyle?"

Once again, Butters drops everything he's doing and whips out his phone to snap a picture of both Kyle and Cartman's faces. They've paled, and their mouths are hanging open, looking at me with pure shock. I smile back sweetly after Butters gets the picture.

"I... I guess that would be okay. Just don't ruin our child too much if it's a boy. But I'm fine with that otherwise." Kyle sputters out while Cartman just looks at me with growing appreciation.

"I think I would be doing most of that, but it's fine if you buy him porn as along as I don't find his stash." Kyle gawks at Cartman this time, shocked.

"W-what!?"

"If it's a boy, Kahl, he'll have a damned porn stash. But I'm not going to go raid his room for it. He'll have to hide it well. And you, Kahl, don't get any ideas about raiding the room while everyone else is gone."

Kyle looks away, guilty of the thought Cartman picked up on already.

I laugh along with Butters.

"Does the same go for me for your kid if you have a boy?" Cartman asks Butters.

"Yeah, that's fine by me, really. And the rules about a girl applies as well."

Kyle's just shocked from this whole conversation. He's absolutely shaken up when I spot Damien and Pip outside.

"Hey, look!" I point to where Pip is being held up on Damien's shoulder as he halfheartedly tries to get Damien to put him down.

"Well, would you look at that! The Demon boy playing with his favorite little Brit!" Cartman says, finally trying not to call Pip 'Frenchie' anymore.

Pip doesn't have his hat on, and is wearing pretty casual clothes. A T-shirt and skinnies that Damien likes on him. It's a random warm day in spring for once, so there wasn't much need for the boy to put on winter clothing. Damien is holding onto Pip's hat, which actually relieves me because Pip without his hat is just as scary as Pip during a dodge ball game, if not as much as when Pip is mad for being called 'Frenchie'.

"Mind telling how they got together? The last time I saw Damien he sent the Brit up into the sky and made fireworks outta him," Cartman asks me, turning back around.

I shrug. "Not sure, dude. Just kinda... Popped in on them by accident." I say, not mentioning that the only reason I had 'popped' in on them was because I died.

"You mean you knocked down the door when you realized someone was getting laid?"

"I was drunk," I shrug again, "Though not enough to forget."

XXX

We arrive at Mephisto's an hour later. When we walk up to the steps, it brings back some memories of going here before. I still remember that time when Cartman found out his mom was really his father, since she hadn't been the one to carry him for fucking nine months. Turned out she had both sexes, and had fucked some other chick we'll never know of.

"Ah, yes, come on in, children." Mephisto ushers us in, that mini look-a-like dude by his feet. "What brings you here?"

"You damn well fucking know, you fucking asshole!" Kyle snaps at Mephisto. "Me and Cartman were here a couple of weeks back, drunk, and now I'm goddamn pregnant! Mind telling what the fuck you fucking did to me, you shitty fucking bastard!?" Even in fights with the fat ass have I never seen Kyle so pissed.

"Cells from your body, changed to female eggs, inserted, and fertilized by your boyfriend here. Simple as that. You said to do it; Both of you if I remember correctly." Mephisto states calmly, Kyle and us following him towards the back.

"Didn't you fucking notice we were drunk!?" Kyle screams. Cartman has a hand on Kyle's lower back, rubbing slightly as if to try to calm the angered teen down.

"Yes, but people are often more truthful in their intentions when intoxicated than when sober."

Kyle... Dear god, is he pissed. Butters is clinging to my jacket, holding on tightly in fear of Kyle, even though he knows Kyle has never blown up on him much at all in his whole life.

"Fuck that! Now tell me what the fuck I'm going to go through, god fucking damn it, or I'll ring your neck off!" Kyle yells, though now he's considerably calm now that he gets to learn about this whole thing and all.

Mephisto looks back at Kyle, a bit shaken from the shock of not hearing wanting Mephisto to undo what he did. "You're not here... To have an abortion?"

"Of course not! When the in the fucking fuck do couples like me and Eric actually get to have this kind of decision?" Kyle says. "Now would you just fucking tell me what I'm going to go through? Do you even know how pissed I am? Shit, for Christ's fucking sake, I'm nearly fuming! I'm nowhere near happy that this happened without my knowing!"

"Oh.. I just thought you'd rather not have the child because you're... well... still in High School."

"Well, I want it and so does Cartman. We've already talked about it. Oh, Butters has a few questions for you." Mephisto turns his head over, studies Butters for a second, and says, "Is that so, boy?"

Butters nods.

"Yeah. I was wondering if the process could be redone. For like, all the other couples out there."

"Possibly. It's worked on animals so far. No problems or anything of the like. All healthy babies. But I don't know about humans, sonny. I can't guarantee with a hundred percent accuracy that it will happen for everyone." Mephisto turns to Kyle, "Do you have a small clue as to how far along you are, boy?"

"Uh... Three outta the four weeks since the last time we were here, I'm guessing. That's when the morning sickness started. Thought I was sick, but it just continued." Kyle answers.

"Have you been moody as of late?"

"Horribly so. Mood swings so bad it puts a bipolar person to shame."

"Ah. Anything else?"

"No, not really. I'm not showing or anything, but I thought it'd be a good idea to start wearing my baggier shirts so that people don't ask later on."

"Well, I can't exactly give you answers. You're the first." Kyle groans. "But so far from your answers, it's fine for now. We could go into the other room and discuss what you'll need and do and eat and all. Set up appointments and all for monitoring. Do you want me to show you where the baby is inside of you?

Kyle nods, just happy Mephisto will guide him through this odd thing.

"You two can wonder around if you like, but make sure not to touch anything, okay?" Mephisto calls out to me and Butters, standing in the middle of the hallway as Mephisto drags Kyle and Cartman off to some other part of the place.

I turn to look at Butters, but he's already got those adorable big blues trained on me while he still keeps the grip on my jacket. He leans forward and hops onto his tipi-toes, and even then do I have to still bend down a little bit to kiss him. We walk back towards the front door and make turns in random directions, all the while holding hands, until we find a table and chairs. We sit down across from each.

"You know I-I didn't mean we had to have kids, r-right, Ken?" Butters says, fiddling with his hands. He looks so cute when he's all nervous like that.

_He's always done that, hasn't he?_, I think to myself. I smile at him.

"Of course I knew that. But we're having them." He looks at me sharply, narrowing his eyes at me as he studies my face for some kind of lie.

"Not... Too soon, right?"

"Not as soon as Cartman and Kyle's kid is, if that's what you mean. Only when you're absolutely ready, Buttercup." He smiles shyly at that.

"G-Good. I mean, we're only Juniors closing in on this school year, and then we'll be Seniors... A-and I just feel a little bad for Kyle. I mean, he's always wanted to go to college, right?"

I nod, "Buttercup, he'll find a way to go even if it kills him."

It's true that Kyle has always wanted to go to college, and is probably pretty pissed that he won't be able to go as soon as he'd like. He's been basically driven Stan insane with how much he talks about wanting to go to college. Kid's a fanatic, and he's got information on every college the U.S. has available. Harvard, Yale... NYU, shit like that, _with_ even just community college information floating around in his room. Mostly he just wanted to get that kind of lower college information for me, so that I'd at least get to go to college if I so chose to, which I told him on Wednesday after school if I could see some of that stuff. He was too excited to hand it over, so I had to pry it out of his hands without ripping it. He figured I was doing it for Butters, and I told him I was, but that if I could get my grades a bit higher I might ask for a bit bigger college and that looking through the ones I asked for was just a small step forward.

Besides, he'll most likely end up going to college once his future kid is ten... More like twelve, but whatever.

"Do you want to go to college, Butters?"

"Yeah, I was thinkin' 'bout it. Might wait a year and all, I dunno yet." He says, shrugging, "But I think I really just want a four year college. It's simpler. Still can get a higher pay even if I don't go ta some Ivy League school. Wha' 'bout ya'self?"

"Yeah, I'm going to. Looking at small four-year community colleges for right now. Maybe something a little bigger if I can." I shrug.

"That seems like a good idea, Ken!" His smile is so bright I laugh.

"It's nothing really big. I'm mostly doing it for you..." I trail off, whispering the last part and hoping he couldn't hear it.

"But ya don't need ta do it for me! I'm fine. Who you should be doing it for is ya'self!" He says.

Fuck this quiet lab of Mephisto's. He damn well heard me.

"I am... I was going to go to college anyways, Puffball. But I'm doing it earlier than I was planning for you." I say, sneaking in a new nickname I came up with a few days ago.

He blushes, looking away to study to clock on the wall. It's already 6:34, but that's earlier if Kyle comes walking in through the door in the next second. He, as well as Cartman for a change, have a bunch of questions.

XXX

It's roughly another hour later when Cartman finds us. I've got Butters in my lap, aimlessly wondering through pictures on Facebook that he continually laughs at from time to time on his own phone, and I rub small circles on his lower back through his shirt, laughing with him at the pictures or comments.

"You fags ready to go?" Cartman asks.

"You shouldn't be saying that considering you're one, too," Butters says, lifting his eyes from his phone to look at the fat ass. Fat ass scoffed.

"Does it really matter if one of your own says it?"

"Only if they used to do so while asking someone to suck their balls, and say they aren't gay."

"You're a weird one, Scotch." Cartman says. "You guys coming or what? We're gunna go have some pizza hut!"

"Sure," I say, standing up after Butters slides off my lap. We pile into Cartman's car and drive another hour towards Denver to get some motherfucking Pizza Hut.

By now it's fucking roughly ten or so minutes past eight.

When we're seated, we're met with the most dull-looking woman I have ever met in all my lives, deaths, and misadventures combined. Dull, lifeless gray eyes and straight, greasy looking dull brown hair pulled back into a tight pony tail. Lanky arms and legs, slim body. Her collar bone protrudes grotesquely, and I can only just imagine how badly she's suffering from anorexia. Her thin neck leads up to a harshly angled face, though unmistakably pretty nonetheless with a sharp nose. And no tits to be seen from a mile away.

We order our drinks and set about talking.

"I... I'm actually scared of that woman, Cartman! I can't see no tits, and I'm basically right up in her chest! And then she's got this weird, lifeless look in her eyes!" I shake for dramatic effect. Cartman, though, meets my statement with enthusiasm.

"I know! Who'd of thought we'd ever meet such a woman!" Kyle sits sipping on his drink, nodding at our statements.

"It's n-not nice for ya ta pick on someone's features, Ken." Butters says after taking a sip of his Pepsi.

"Do you have any comments on her appearance, Puffball?"

"Well, she's awfully pretty even though it looks like she needs to take Cartman class on eating."

"Well, yeah, she needs to eat a lot more to gain some weight. It looks to me like she's suffering from anorexia, guys. And I agree with Butters. She is quiet pretty. And take the Crash Cross for Eating from Cartman." Kyle says.

"I wasn't saying she wasn't pretty. She is very pretty in my opinion, it's just... It looks like she gave up on life altogether." I say. I shake my head. "It looks like she needs someone to come get her out of her rut and help her get better and all. Ya know?" Sometimes, when I'm talking like this, Butters' accent that mispronounces 'you' into 'ya', 'want to' into 'wanna' or 'to' into 'ta' will show through because of how much time I spend with the sweet little angel. Not that I mind, I love spending time with him, it's just that I've noticed I'll start doing that at times.

Kyle shushes us as the girl, Ashley is her name, takes our orders. Butters resumes the conversation.

"I know whatcha talkin' 'bout, Ken. I really do. I'm just saying it ain't too nice ta do so behind her back, though I wouldn't care for ya sayin' it all in front of her, either."

But when she comes back with our food, I can't help but say _something_, _anything_ to try to get her scariness off of my mind. And to piss Butters off a little.

"For the love of fucking God, if you don't have tits at all, get some fake tits! If you're A-cup, get some fake tits! Don't go over board, though. B-cup and up will absolutely get the job done." I said to the waitress bringing out our food. It's nowhere near anything I should've said, but hey, whatever, right? But I do earn a small punch on the arm from my Butters.

She stares at me blankly and says: "I'm a C-cup."

"Oh. Well, they must be some fucking saggy motherfuckers if I can't motherfucking see them, honey bun. Get a lift maybe?"

Once again, she gives the blankest of expressions while telling me: "They're in a fucking bra. What the fuck else am I supposed to do?"

"Take your shirt off." I say, giving her the most expressionless face I have the ability to at the moment.

"This is a public place, sir."

"Well, I'm pretty sure most every guy who has walked in here has done nothing but undress you with their eyes, only to find out you're a trap."

"Well, excuse me, then. Would you like to see after I get off?"

"Nah, I've got my boyfriend right here." I smile, and hold up me and Butters' hands, our fingers intertwined.

She's horrified. Her eyes go big, so big I can see an ever-so-slight ring of blue around her otherwise cold gray eyes. Her eyes do tell that she's not horrified that me and Butters are gay... Just... Horrified at what she suggested me and her go do a few seconds ago.

"Yo-You're gay? I-I..." Her seamless composure breaks.

"Bi, actually. Who couldn't go live life with loving tits? Even for a few measly seconds?"

"Me and Cartman are gay, but damn, a nice pair of tits always sounds nice, doesn't it, Butters?" Kyle says.

"Y-Y-Yea-ah-h-h." He stutters, absolutely lost in his nerves.

"I-I'm sorry I said that, then... I didn't see your guys hands connected..." She says.

"It's fine, but one more thing: If a guy wanted to titty-fuck you, I'm pretty they'd have to have a three yard wide cock to get it to work even in the slightest." Okay, I passed a line there with everyone around me _but_ Ashley. Which is only three people, but when two of them kick you in the shins and the other that's sitting next to you punches you as hard as they can, it hurts.

"Sorry..." I mutter.

"It's okay. I don't mind. A lot of my friends, guys and girls, make fun of the fact that even in the tightest shirt I can manage to wear my tits don't even seem to be there." She smiles sweetly before asking how we were liking our food so far.

"Smmagoooooooood." I say through a mouth full of pepperoni pizza (Translation: So... Goooooooood.").

"It's lovely." Kyle says, taking a small bite off of his small cheese pizza.

"It's absolutely yummy!" Both Butters and Cartman say in unison after chewing their bites of the pepperoni pizza.

She nods, smiles again, and leaves to take care of the two other sets of people here.

"Can't you just keep your mouth shut for once?" Kyle spits out at me.

"She didn't seem to mind... And you've grown up with me since what, even before _preschool_ when we got Boyett sent off to Juvenal Hall. How do you expect anything different?"

"Well, Butters is around! I thought you'd watch your fucking tongue, you stupid whore." Oh. Kyle's just in a pissy mood again.

"Oh. Well, we've known him since before preschool, too, haven't we? He's been around it for so long it shouldn't bother him too damn much." I don't care if Kyle kills me soon. It's fun to see him this way for absolutely no reason at all without in being directed solely at fat ass.

"Oh, fuck, for the love fucking God, Kenny! Shut the fuck up before I kill you!" A fork flies past his face, jolting him and stunning him as he looks towards Butters.

"I hope ya know Kenny will not be dyin' on me any time soon. And don't ya dare hurt him unless he turns into a zombie again." He takes a sip of his Pepsi, "Oh, and I didn't miss." He says sweetly, smiling.

"What have I done to you?" Cartman asks.

"Nothing, really. Nobody sets that kind of reaction outta me much. It's rare." He says, taking a bite out of his slice of pizza as I reach to grab my third.

"Wait – Did you just _not_ question the fact that he said if I turn into a zombie _again_?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Umm... Why aren't you questioning it?"

"Because we know you die on, what, a daily basis?"

"You fucking knew? Ya fuckin' knew?"

"Well, yeah."

"I shot myself in the head back when we were little, telling you to 'Fucking remember this time, guys.' for nothing because you chose to ignore the fact I die repeatedly?!"

"Are you taking about when Cartman dressed up as The Coon and you as Mysterion? And yes, it makes it easier to deal with." Kyle says, much calmer than he was a few minutes prior.

"Yeah, that's the time I was taking about. Well, you could have at least told me you fucking knew! Every time I have to ask someone what's been going on since the last time I died, I have to fucking lie because I think that you guys don't remember! So that lying was for nothing?! I don't like to lie, and ya know that!"

"Yeah, but every time you asked me, Cartman, or Stan we'd laugh our asses off because you didn't realize we knew. Why do you think one of me and Stan's usual sayings is 'Oh my god, they killed Kenny!' from Stan and 'You bastards!' from me?"

"Well, shit, I knew about it but you guys used it when I died in video games, too, so I didn't realize from that that you guys fucking knew! I've been dying my whole fucking life, and I've finally made it a whole year with out dying for once until just a little while ago, and you mean to just _now_ tell me you guys knew? Fuck dudes, that's a bit twisted."

"You can't just think no one remembers, Kenny," Butters said, sadness etching into his sweet, innocent baby-looking face, "Especially when I'm someone who does." He sighs, "And you damn well knew it before now." I laugh at how his tone suddenly changed from sad-like to whatever the fuck you call it.

"Ah, fuck you all." I say, taking a sip from my Mountain Dew.

"Oh, shut up and continuing stuffing your face, poor boy." Cartman comments.

"Gladly." I say, reaching Kyle's, since he pushed it away with one piece left of it. He doesn't complain; He's actually full, no temper-tantrums whatsoever this time around.

For that, I'm thankful.

Butters giggles at my comment, and sneaks a bite out of the piece I'm just about to stuff right into my mouth with me noticing until the pizza's in my mouth already.

Kyle's at ease now, probably having gotten out all of the tension in him for the day.

Cartman isn't picking any fights, or throwing around words like 'Jew' and 'Kike' at his favorite little monster, knowing fully well he'd die before he'd get the chance to utter another sound.

XXX

That night, once we got back to South Park and said our goodbyes to the two future parents, I just didn't want to leave Butters. It was tough enough just to pry myself from him so that I could sneak into his room through his window.

We tend to be awfully quiet when it's late at night because of his mom and dad. At the moment, Butters' dad is out, probably getting his ass pounded and his wife still as clueless as ever about it. We're still quiet because of Linda because she's a crazy bitch. Says she loves her son (I believe she does, its just she has always been so mentally corrupted she doesn't realize that certain things she does isn't good for my little Buttercup.) and just puts everything behind her after freaking out. Lying about killing your own son is pretty fucked up. And then fucking tying him up with chains because he comes back alive? Holy fuck, his parents are fucking fucked up! My own goddamned parents aren't that messed up.

"It's been a hectic day, hasn't it, Buttercup?" I whisper in his ear as I hold him.

Oh, fuck yes. I might be a damned whore, but shit, I'm not fucking this shit up with Butters because I fucking love this kid. Yes, I'm young and we're young, but damn, you'd think we were crazy for saying we love each other so young! But fuck, we live in South FUCKING Park, for Christ's sake! You might as well goddamn say it before anything happens to you or the other person. You never know what someone else is planning if they aren't in your immediate circle of friends, and even then they are gunna keep quiet if they want they're little plan to go accordingly. Even if you hate the person with a deep passion, you goddamn well say it.

Kind of like Cartman when he says, "_I love you guys,_" to us. He basically hates us all, but he says he loves us anyways because it's all he's known. All everyone here has ever known. Cartman doesn't actually hate us, just acts like he does. Everyone, after finding out that his mom had actually died a few years ago (He didn't fucking tell us for three months! Just placed her in some underground storage space they had so that he wouldn't smell her rotting corpse.), had actually figured out why he acted so high and mighty when he was really just a huge softy that just needed any small sort of attention that he usually got from Kyle.

Ever since before preschool hit, he's had trouble with his weight. Me, Stan, and Kyle hadn't known Cartman when we were two years old, but we did know of his mom. Nobody knew she had had a child until she decided to _try_ and clean up her act back when he was just about to turn three. But before that, we all knew, even at fucking two years old for fucks sake, knew she was the town whore. Then we met Cartman at Starks Pond one warm day in Spring. Everyone had wanted a picnic that day, even the town whore. That's how everyone figured out she had had a child. Cartman wasn't super huge then (The pictures that were taken proved that after he turned four was when it became really noticeable he was eating in excess.), slightly chubbier than the rest of us while I was the skinniest because my family was poor. For a baby I was actually okay then. Anyways, that was also the day Kyle and Cartman ever fought. Babies – Fighting. Stan's mom had thought it was innocent play fighting because we where so little that she took a picture of the two fighting before Cartman hit Kyle hard enough to leave a bruise (Which it did), and Kyle fought back with a vengeance and planted bruises on Cartman like they had done it to each other so many times in fifty million years it was natural for them to fight no matter what. To this day, we all laugh at that fact. And Cartman fought back with an equal vengeance. He had apparently not meant to actually hit Kyle that day, hadn't known he had done it until seconds before they went tumbling into a fight that left both bruised pretty badly. That was also the day Kyle insisted on calling Cartman by his last name instead of his first. No everyone had caught on that train until we were all four, a whole year and a week later after wards. Most everyone called him Eric before that. He never minded that he was called Cartman, even said it made him sound cooler.

But the issue with his weight wasn't related to Kyle, or even Stan and me. It was the fact of his mother. The crack whore of the town, the woman who repeatedly left her young son home alone and feed him food all the time. Praised him like he was a god, almost. Just ever so slightly, almost. She treated him so good. And he wasn't really this cold hearted bastard he claimed to be because after a while, he just didn't want to feel the hate, the fake loving he got from his mom when she returned after a night or two's prostitution. That's why he was actually like a big teddy bear, and that was even Kyle's nickname for him when they were around the few people who knew or on their own together. But when he had found his mother passed out in a puddle of her own vomit, next to a pile of someone elses vomit, while a pipe filled with crack and a baggie filled with the stuff laying a few inches away, he had freaked. His mother was dead. Everyone, and I mean everyone, had seen him crying and yelling and just purely upset and while he was crying, he fucking apologized to everyone for the shit he had done to them. Even Scott Tenorman. Cartman said sorry for what he did. But most of all, he said sorry to Kyle so many times even after he had calmed himself down that Kyle couldn't find it in him to fucking fight with fat ass until fat ass decided that he needed to stop saying sorry and finally get a fight from Kyle.

That was a stepping stone to the first step that would ultimately get Kyle pregnant with Cartman's child. I was the one who pushed them into that full first step.

And I was damned proud of it, too.

"It has," Butters answers, snuggling his head in the curve of where neck meets shoulder as I hold him. I smile, resting my head on top of his soft blonde hair.

A couple of hours into the night, around one in the morning, I wake up to the shuffling of drunken feet across the carpeting heading towards Butters room. Butters wakes up, too, and frantically points to his closet. I get up and practically dive in there as quietly as I can.

His dad is home.

Checking on him.

I leave a the closet door open just enough for me to see out of it but not enough for someone drunken idiot to notice.

What I see when Butters' dad stammers into the room shocks me. He grabs Butters and throws him to the floor, a sneer of disgust on his face. My Buttercup hits the floor with a loud thud. He shoots a worried look in my direction, to which thankfully his dad just thinks he's staring of. He starts kicking Butters in the ribs, and I can't see my Buttercup's face any longer as he tries to curl up and shield himself from the kicks.

"You fucking fag! You disgust me! Why the fuck did I ever fuck your mother on that stupid fucking dare so many years ago!?" His dad screams, and I just know Linda has lost most of her living sanity from hearing these words. I reach out in the darkness of Butters closet, and find what I'm looking for with relative ease.

The next minute is a blur as I can only really remember seeing black.

I beat Butters dad over the head with the baseball bat wrapped around tightly in my hands, then just going for any other part of the bastard without killing him. Butters has retreated to his corner with the huge teddy bear, crying out in gasps. I drop the baseball bat when a practically loud sob escapes him, bringing me back to the present. I wake over to him, and he reaches out to hold tightly onto me. He isn't afraid of me, he knows I wouldn't hurt him, he just came over here to get away from his now unconscious father.

"Let's get you somewhere safe," I say.

_**AN:**_

_Well, well, well. We meet again, children! Not that you are children, but... Yeah. _

_BAHAHAHA! The line from the summary! BOOM. This chapter is by far my favorite I've written so far. I've typed upwards of fucking ten thousand words in this one chapter. WOO-HOO! I've also decided I can't fucking write Dr. Mephisto correctly. Was it good enough though? And yes. I wrote about tits. They're all soft and fun to play with and just, fuck people, I was tempted and temptation beat my ass so I gave in. Also, I'm winging it with this MPREG... I'll do some research and all to give me some ground as to what the fuck is going to happen with Kyle. I'm not going to blow him up like a blimp, I'll tell you that much. How do ya believe Stan will react when he finds out Kyle's pregnant? I'd like to see what you readers think will happen when Kyle tells him. I'm going to keep this AN as short as possible, but I will tell you the Disneyland chapter will be up after Kyle has the baby. Oh, and eeggagggggk! Butters dad is abusive... Whats gunna happen?!_

_Stick around for me, guys?_

_Thanks again, and I shall be seeing you guys some other time soon!_


	5. Chapter 5

**Sweet Nothings**

I'm with Kyle, who is now only about two months pregnant, and my Buttercup at the Tweak's coffee house, with Tough laying down in front of the booth we're at. Tweek himself wasn't here right now, so the place wasn't filled with the 'GAH!'s and freak-outs the poor spaz had. It was quiet without the spaz here. Cartman's at work, a job he got way back during our freshman year, leaving Kyle to sit by himself on his side of the booth, even though me and my Buttercup said we would gladly sit with him if he wanted us to.

Buttercup's dad is in the hospital, and being charged for child abuse. He still won't admit to it, but we've got the bruises on Buttercup and his own statements, plus every elses statements about how he always had them for whatever reason Butters told them (Which they now know what the real reasons were.). I'm not being charged for shit because I was only helping Butters out. Turns out, if I hadn't been there, Butters could have had a couple of broken ribs and maybe other broken bones. Butters' dad had fractured a rib or two, and from my own statements that if I hadn't intervened Buttercup's dad would have continued for awhile longer. The X-rays from the next day when we took Butters in proved so.

And Linda, that sweet but insane woman, had known. She had sobbed into a police officers' shoulder as she told them that Butters' dad would have killed her _after_ he made her watch him torture my poor Buttercup to death if she even uttered a word about it to him. She had hugged Butters close, crying over and over again that she was sorry she couldn't do anything about it. It was a basic abusive relationship, where one made the other feel like they couldn't do anything for fear of the one (Or ones, in this case.) they cared so deeply about getting hurt or killed. Apparently, when she had conceived Butters, he had threatened to kill him the instant he was born _and _kill her whole family if she didn't marry him. And the family part still held once he started beating Butters. He told her that if she uttered a thing, even in riddles, to her family, he'd kill every single last one of them. He _drove_ the poor woman insane! She was all fine and dandy and was looking forward to being a single mom before he took over her. I felt horrible when I heard about her statements.

In three months, Butters will be going to court to testify against his father.

"I just don't know how I'm going to tell Stan, Kenny," Kyle says, staring into his small decaf, and also snapping me out of my thoughts, "I mean, he'll more than likely try and kill Cartman on the spot just because he knows Cartman could've said or done anything just for me to agree. But he didn't, so that might mean we have to tie him down so that we can get to explaining that part."

"I'll tie 'im down!" Butters says, writing out ideas in a notebook Kyle brought with him, a notebook that he's written down all his symptoms and other nonsense to me. Even a few sketches of a little red hair baby girl with names like 'Alana', 'Molly', and 'Sunrise' scribbled down next to the sketch.

"You wanting a baby girl, Kyle?" I ask, not taking my eyes off of the drawing of a little baby with the name 'Alana' scribbled haphazardly next to it.

"Yeah. I've always imagined my first child to be a girl, even though I never imagined I'd be the one carrying the child I was to have!" He laughs. "I'll start coming up with boy names another time. Soon, though."

"I just can't believe this. It's like, oh, I don't fucking know, dude! It's fucking awesome as fuck, but I just can't explain it!"

"Now you kind of understand why I'm freaking out over on how to tell Stan?"

"Like Butters said: 'I'll tie 'im down!' We'll fucking tie him down. But since Wendy's already on our side, it won't be a huge problem, right?"

"Bitch gots Stan wrapped 'round her fucking pinky toe!" Butters pipes up.

"True. But still. He'll more than likely scream his head off for a few days before he even begins to listen to Wendy, let alone me. He'll be so confused as to why I let fat ass do this to me, let alone the whole fact we've been fucking for almost three years and haven't uttered a word to a single soul! You and Wendy and Bebe and Butters don't count because A) You fucking knew because you have some kind of 'THEY HAD SEX!' radar." He pauses, taking a sip of his coffee, "B) You fucking told Butters, not us. And lastly, C) Those two only found out recently because I got morning sickness more than once around them."

"Meaning you haven't said a single thing about you two being a couple. I got it, I got it. Still seems really weird to have kept it going this long and not tell anyone."

"You know how my mom is."

"Meaning Cartman's right? That she's a BITCH!?"

"Yes. I've secretly always agreed with him about that. She really is. But you know her, and can't you just imagine what she'll do to me come finding out I'm pregnant?"

"Ughh. The horrors!" I shudder. "And you're the local Jew! She'll freak out more than when she finds out that you're just pregnant! When she finds out that you, a fucking Jew, are pregnant with the fucking local Nazi's kid, it'll be World War III for all we know!"

"Maybe she'll jump and make it World War Fifteen." Butters says.

"You guys, you know I'm serious, right?" Kyle says, although sporting a smile for himself.

"We know, we know. So, here's an idea!" I grab the notebook from Butters, and begin scribbling out the plan as I talk. "We'll get Stan alone with Wendy, and we'll get her to bring Stan over. Get him to sit down in the chair we'll tie him to. Don't know how she'll get him to sit in a chair in the middle of a room, but we'll figure that out later. Then, we'll have Bebe spring out from somewhere in the room with enough rope to tie him down with, and Wendy and Bebe will tie him down before he can protest!" I take a sip of my own coffee, a Hershey Cappuccino, and continue, "Then the rest of us will come into the room and BAM! We'll have an intervention of sorts where we'll tell him!"

"Sometimes I worry about you, Kenny." Kyle says, "You sound almost like Cartman."

"Well, we'll be going over this with fat ass anyways, so he'll get input. It's a Cartman plan with only a little bit of Cartman in it!" I beam, which makes Kyle smile and laugh.

"Oh, I just thought of something!"

"What?"

"You'll have to start calling him Eric before your child gets the idea that that's what his or her daddy's first name is!"

"Oh, fuck, that's true... But I've only called Cartman that once or twice. How in the fucking fuck am I gunna be able to do that..?"

"Don't fucking know, dude. You've called Cartman Cartman for so long, by the time we all die we still won't be used to you calling Cartman 'Eric'!"

"Why does he -GAH!- need to -NnGH- call Cartman 'Eric'? -GAH!-" Tweek is back. YAY (I'm not being sarcastic here, damn you!)!

"Umm... Ugh... Tweek, sit down. You're gunna have to for what I'm about to tell you."

"Okay. -GAH-" The fidgety spaz sits down next to Kyle.

"Well, Tweek... I'm pregnant with Cartman's child."

"GAH!? Wha-WHAT!? -GAH- Too much pressure! -NnGH- Does he know?!"

"Yes, he knows. Him, Wendy, Bebe, Kenny, Butters, and now you, know."

"R-Really? How f-far are you al-along?" No 'GAH!'? Weird.

"I'm eight weeks."

"So... You won't start showing un-until close to the second semester, right?"

Damn it's weird not hearing Tweek's spazzy talk.

"Well, I kind of already am. Me being a guy and all means I show sooner. It's really subtle, but it's there."

"Only because you have the flattest stomach known to mankind!" I say.

"Oh, whatever Kenny. Yeah, flat stomach means that I'll show sooner, too, I guess, because I'm not curved up front like most girls are." Kyle rolls his eyes at my statement before saying his last sentence.

XXX

Two weeks later, me and Butters are at Wendy's, sitting on her bed while we wait for her to get back with Bebe lounging on her stomach at the end of the bed reading a magazine. It's a huge queen sized bed, pressed up against the wall, with a white flowery designed bedding and so many pillows it looks so fucking fluffy (Which it is, but that's besides that point.) It's lined with bedposts, with hanging curtains, drapes, whatever the fuck you call the things that hang of bedposts. Her rooms so pink and bright. All the furniture is white, pink lining parts of it. One wall is white, but covered in posters. There's hardwood flooring, so there's a huge circle carpet in the center of the room.

"Who said I would let you sit on my bed, Kenny?" Wendy asks me, coming back into the room.

"No one..."

"Ugh, whatever." She says to me, "What is it, anyways, sweetheart?" She directed that to Butters, who's sitting in my lap.

"Well, we came up with a plan ta tell Stan."

"Really?"

"Yeah. But we need ya ta... seduce... him..."

"Okay. What do I got to do?"

"Well, we're tying him to a chair. So, we need to get him in that chair, and we'll have Bebe jump out and t-tie his arms behind him while you tie his legs up before he can protest."

"Oh, a strip tease!"

"Please, god, no actual strip tease, please!" I beg.

Bebe rolls her eyes, "What? You afraid you'll cheat on your little cutie?"

"No," I say, turning to her, "I'm afraid I'll make him do that himself. And I don't plan on _forcing_ him to do such a thing, thank you very much!"

"Wow! The whore's finally trying to settle down?!"

"How'd you manage that, Butters!?" Wendy exclaims.

"I-I don't k-know, guys..." Buttercup says, rubbing his knuckles together. I smile, resting my head in the crook of his neck, kissing his neck ever so lightly.

XXX

After getting home from Wendy's (Okay, Butters' home, but I moved in just before we went to Wendy's for obvious reasons.), curled up with my Buttercup tucked up against my chest, I'm laying here thinking while he snores ever so lightly.

It'll be tough for Wendy to be able to keep Stan down on a damned chair long enough for her and Bebe to pounce the kid and tie him down. Besides... No one's seen Stan throw up over Wendy in years. They've fucked, but Wendy admitted that they had never done a kinky thing. Just sex. Normal, mind-blowingly normal sex. No fetish or kink in the mix. Now, suddenly, Wendy has to give him a fake strip tease. Will he throw up and lose his shit before he's even tied down and told by Kyle and Cartman?

Fuck, I have no idea.

Stan has obviously seen Kyle and Cartman kiss, tons of times, since I've seen him after most throwing up. He knows somethings going on, but I don't think he realizes that they're a couple like he and Wendy are right now. Because of the baby that's in the picture, soon they'll have to tell everyone in the town, even if that means dealing with the wrath of Kyle's mother.

Oh, fuck, that's gunna be a scary one. When Kyle told his mother that he was gay... He was forced to go to some gay camp, like Butters was, for three months (Our whole damn summer!) to be 'cured' of his 'disease.' Only me and Stan knew (The gay camp and Kyle being gay, aside from his family.), since this happened in the summer just before seventh grade, and Cartman has never been told as to why he was gone that whole summer to this very day. Cartman was... To put it lightly: a miserable, psychotic mess. He refused to believe it was because his favorite Jew was somewhere other than in the same town as him, even after me and Stan had lied to him repeatedly that we had no idea as to the whereabouts of Kyle when he would practically break down in a mess of high-pitched, evil laughter as if he really did lose his mind. He wandered so aimlessly amongst the town folk with the same laughter, as subdued as it could get during that summer, and often ran away from home to try and find his Jew. He never got very close to the camp Kyle was at, thankfully. When Kyle did return, Cartman literally almost threw in the towel and kissed Kyle. Cartman didn't notice how hollow Kyle looked and acted, how drained of life he seemed. For weeks Kyle was like this, not even Cartman's antics would rile him out of it. Kyle... complied with it all. Cartman couldn't notice until a week before his hug snapped Kyle out of it. He was just too happy to be sane again (As sane as Eric Theodore Cartman can get, that is.). But he snapped out of it quick when he had once again suggested Kyle suck his balls if Kyle lost a bet. When Kyle responded with a "Okay, fat ass. Fine by me.", Cartman lost his head. Would of yelled the fucker right off his shoulders if he could. Everyone knew Cartman needed Kyle's temper, and Kyle needed Cartman's constant bicker-inducing ways and comments to fuel such an angry, heat-filled temper that never came out unless Cartman pushed a single button. Kyle did end up losing the bet anyways, it turned out, and instead of getting what he asked for, Cartman just hugged Kyle.

Which set off the weirdest fight this town, and maybe the whole world, has ever witnessed. Kyle wasn't happy that Cartman wasn't trying to make him actually suck his balls, and Kyle had surely almost busted Cartman's eardrums for how painful each word his screaming voice said. Kyle was fucking confused as all Hell when Cartman just decided to get a hug rather than anything else the fat, racist Nazi could come up with. Cartman sat there in the room they were in, taking it all like a man. He didn't look shocked in the least, but more than likely was because of previous attempts for such a bet were crushed so easily because Kyle wouldn't do it before, and at the time was now yelling his own head off about why he wasn't being forced to suck the fat ass's balls.

Nobody saw the thing, but we all damned heard it. At least, nobody saw anything until it went and aired nation-wide, then internationally, through the courts.

Yes, they fucking took it to court.

In the end, Kyle didn't get what he thought of as 'fair', even though he had constantly backed out some way or another from actually doing it before. Cartman was fine that it didn't happen, although he did admit to me a couple weeks later he kind of wished Kyle had won and had been able to do it. But nonetheless fine. Kyle, on the other hand, wouldn't speak or react to anything Cartman-related for two months. Never showed up for the bus in the mornings, always got a ride from his day on his way to work, and ate with 'Team Craig' or some of the girls if Cartman was at school that day. Never hung out with us if Cartman would be there, and if Cartman happened to show up anyways (Or maybe we just didn't tell Kyle he would be joining us...), Kyle would either leave, or lock himself up in the bathroom until Cartman left. Eventually, Cartman basically 'kidnapped' Kyle and told him to just stop with all the avoiding he'd been doing. Cartman told me that he had said he was on the fucking verge to go murder people if Kyle didn't stop it, and thankfully Kyle listened because he wouldn't be able to take the guilt of knowing who did it. It was... Slow at first when Kyle wouldn't avoid Cartman anymore, a bit tense. But Cartman had lessened that, quickly gotten rid of the awkwardness surrounding the group and town within two weeks by driving Kyle up the damn wall with comments about his religion, among other things, to force all the weirdness left out of Kyle using his own temper against him.

I chuckle. _Only those two_, I think to myself, drifting off into a dreamless, but peaceful, sleep.

XXX

"Butters? Kenny? Are you two up?" Butters' mom, Linda, says through the door after knocking. She slowly inches the door open to peer inside.

"Yes, ma'am. We are. Butters is in the shower." I say, still under the covers as I hear the shower start.

"Okay. Would you two like some chocolate chip pancakes when you're done getting ready for the day?"

"That'd be great! Thanks, Linda!"

"Sure thing, Kenny." She says, smiling, before re-closing the door and going back down stairs to make us some pancakes.

Ever since Butters' father was put in jail (And is staying there until court starts, and will probably never leave after court anyways.), Linda has calmed down dramatically. She doesn't ground him, she loves me to death; She has killed me a few times with her hugs, and since I now know that everyone remembers such a thing, I'm fine with it; and she lets him do whatever. Since Buttercup's been raised to do house-hold chores, the only thing she does is force him not to do the chores expect his own laundry. It makes me laugh. She's also not so nervous, and she's always saying sorry about the things that have happened to Butters.

X(Two Months and One Week Later.)X

I watch as Wendy comes in through her door with Stan, behind three huge black bookcases along with Butters, Kyle, and Cartman (Surprisingly he can fit.). Bebe is behind the table near the wall, under the window, on the other side of the room. Tweek and Craig, as well as Karen and Ruby, are inside Wendy's stairwell closet, only being able to hear.

"Come on, Stan, I've got a surprise for you." Wendy says, dragging said boy into the living room. There is one chair in the middle of the room, and Wendy pushes Stan onto it. He's pretty dazed already, and is sporting a hard-on, too, so he complies to sitting down like Wendy told him to and stares back up at her.

_I knew Wendy was born a slut! She just isn't a slut outside of the bedroom!_ I think to myself as I watch undetected.

Wendy hits the play button on a remote control and starts up the music, beginning to give a show for Stan. She dances long enough, not removing any clothes or rubbing herself up against Stan (She said she'll pretend to give Stan a strip tease.) I don't want to see it, so I'm glad beyond relief when Bebe pounces out and throws Wendy some rope. They quickly get Stan's arms folded across the back of the chair and tied together before he realizes it. Wendy's got his each of his legs tied to the individual legs of the chair.

"What the fuck!" Stan yells. "The fuck is going on?!"

On a count to three after Stan speaks, we all hop out from our hiding spots.

"The FUCK!"

"This is for your own good, Stan." Wendy says.

"KYLE!? What the fuck is going on here, guys?!"

"An intervention, of sorts. Not really. Kyle and Cartman got something to tell you!" I tell him, clapping my hands together once.

"Tell me _WHAT_?" He sneers, pissed beyond reason.

Cartman slinks an arm around Kyle's waist, and Stan is screaming at Kyle to punch the fat ass for toughing him when he doesn't make Cartman let go of him. Kyle leans into Cartman at that, a worried look painted on his face while Cartman is a bit amused.

"Stan..." Kyle tries.

"DON'T 'STAN' ME, KYLE! THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?! UNTIE ME FOR GOD'S SAKE. PUNCH CARTMAN. HE'S TOUCHING YOU! THE LAST TIME HE TOUCHED YOU YOU PUNCHED HIM AND BROKE HIS NOSE!"

"Shut. The. Fuck. Up. Stan."

"K-Kyle?" Stan winces from Kyle's cruel, icy voice.

"Are you going to listen to me? And stay as calm as you can?"

Stan nods, though understandably reluctant to do so.

"Me and Cartman have been together since freshman year."

"WHAT?! HUH? THAT MAKES NO SENSE. HOW THE FUCK COULD YOU BE TOGETHER WITH AN EGOISTICAL FAT BASTARD WHO CHASED YOU TO THE PENTAGON AND TO IMAGINATIONLAND TO SUCK HIS GODDAMN BALLS? ALL BECAUSE HE PROVED LEPRECHAUNS ARE REAL! AND WHAT ABOUT THE TIME WHEN WE TE-PEED OUR ART TEACHERS HOUSE AND HE TRIED TO KILL YOU!? HUH?!"

Kyle rolls his eyes.

"WHAT ABOUT WHEN-" SMACK.

"W-Wendy?"

"Didn't he tell you to be calm, Stan? You are hardly taking this well, and when I found out I was jumping for joy at the fact!"

"How long have you known?"

"A few weeks. Only because... Kyle?" Wendy turns to Kyle, asking him to tell Stan.

"I got morning sickness around her and Bebe a couple of weeks back. I'm pregnant, Stan."

"What?" He's dumbfounded. Lost.

"I'm pregnant. With Cartman's child."

"WHAT?!"

Kyle just nods, and so does Cartman, although he has been wincing because of Stan's yelling.

"YOU FAT SON OF A BITCH! WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO KYLE? YOU GOT HIM PREGNANT? AND WE'RE NOT EVEN OUT OF HIGH SCHOOL YET! DID YOU FUCKING RAPE HIM OR SOMETHING?! I SWEAR TO GOD-" He earns another smack from Wendy, who is now glaring daggers at her boyfriend.

"Stanley Marsh!" She cries, "Were you not just listening? They've been together for three years, damn it! They've fucking fucked before! The first time they fucked was after the second time Kenny beat the shit outta Cartman for making Butters cry!"

"What? Kenny? Is.. Is that true?"

"Yeah. It is." I tell him.

"Why'd you beat him up?"

"'Cause I love my Buttercup." At that, Butters comes to crawl into my embrace, and I wrap my arms around his waist.

"Anything else I should know?"

"Me and Buttercup are dating."

"Me and Tweek, too." Craig deadpans, flipping Stan off. You can always count on him for the deadpanning of everything.

"Oh... How did I miss this shit?"

"Well, for me and Cartman? Only Kenny and Butters were the only two who knew since the beginning, Butters only because Kenny told him. You know Kenny's got some kind of radar that picks up on when someone kisses, fucks, or whatever the fuck it picks up. Me and Cartman have been making sure no body finds out, especially my mom."

"I knew something was up. I've seen you two. I just didn't think it was consensual on your part. Also... What if I just go tell her when you untie me?"

"Then you won't be untied, Stanley." Wendy states coldly.

"Kenny and Butters got together when I was about four weeks along. Little over three months ago." Kyle continues, unfazed by Stan's confession of seeing him and Cartman.

"Me and C-Craig have -GAH!- been together s-since sophomore year." Tweek says. "We just didn't tell anyone." Craig deadpans, flipping Stan off again.

Stan ignores Tweek and Craig, although I know he does acknowledge it, "How far along are you now?"

"Almost eighteen weeks."

"Are you showing?"

"A little. There's defiantly a bump, but it's not huge yet."

"Oh..." Stan says. "Who else knew? At least before me?"

"Just about everyone. Even Cartman's mom knows, and guess what she did when she found out?"

"What?"

"She was happy, and all that stuff, but went on a full rant about being irresponsible at seventeen." Kyle says, "She wouldn't stop. It was hard to even go to sleep, and when you woke up she'd start from where she left off."

"Odd. She's the town whore."

"Well, at least she was responsible about not getting pregnant or anything like that! She's good about things like that." Cartman says.

"Or maybe she just didn't want another Eric around..." I mumble.

"I heard that, poor boy!"

I raised an eyebrow at him. How the fuck did he hear me? I'm all the way over here, and the music's still on! The fuck!

XXX

Couple of hours later, and Stan is still tied to the chair. He's pretty unwilling to not go to Kyle's mother.

"Are you going to tell her?" He sneers finally.

"Of course!" Kyle says, rolling his eyes. "There's no way I can keep it from her. That's the plan: Tell you, then tell her in two months."

"Why two months?"

"I'm not getting an abortion, Stanley." Kyle deadpans.

"Oh."

"Do you get it, hunny?" Wendy coos, "He's happy and in love, and trust me when I can say this, Cartman's treated Kyle like a Goddess in the last five months!"

"I thought Kyle was... What, four months?"

"Yeah." Almost everyone says in unison.

We all fall into a silence for a while, and somehow in the middle of it we all decide to watch a movie. We've moved Stan to the side of the couch, me and Butters the closest to him with Kyle sitting on the fat ass's lap next to us, and then Tweek and Craig in a similar position. Wendy's sitting on the floor in front of Stan with Bebe laying her head in her lap.

The movie Ted plays, and because we're all saps for stuffed animals, we're enjoying the fuck out of it.

We order pizza, and eat some ice cream Wendy has stored in the basement freezer.

The whole time I'm day dreaming about the future.

"_Alana!" Kyle calls from the kitchen, leaning against the counter. Cupcake-making material is strewn neatly out upon said counter, from eggs to flour to the mixing bowls and the cupcake pans._

"_What, daddy?" the bouncy four-year-old squeaks, playing with Lego's. Her flaming red curls, which fall around her shoulders at this point in her age, sways elegantly around her face before stopping ever so slightly after turning her head to look at Kyle._

"_Do you want to help daddy make cupcakes for papa's birthday today?" He asks the fiery child, smiling brightly._

"_Yeah!" She says, picking herself off of the floor so quickly she practically fly's into the kitchen to help him, as fast as her tiny four-year-old feet can carry her without her falling._

_It's ten in the morning, Cartman's at work, and it's his birthday. Alana calls Kyle 'daddy', and calls Cartman either Cartman or 'papa.' Maybe fat ass if she beyond pissed. But she's never really thought of her papa that way. She's always said that he's 'big boned', and it always cracks me and my Buttercup up._

"_Here, baby girl, put on this apron, okay?" Kyle says, kneeling down to tie it to her small body._

"_Okay, daddy!" She says happily. Her green dress matches her eyes, and the apron that her daddy's making her wear is almost as red as her blood red curls that freely fly about her head._

_Buttercup is playing with our two little girls on the floor. They're two years younger than Alana, but Alana is the sweetest damn thing in the world and loves them to death. Although the small redheaded girl can become as hot-tempered and feisty as her daddy, and as ill-mannered and cunning as her papa, she does have the ability neither Cartman or Kyle had as little four-year-old's to be nice and sweet and actually mean it unlike her papa. She's often defending them from getting sand thrown in their faces when we're all at the park and having a picnic by the older kids, who happen to be older than her, too. But she as feisty and cunning as both her fathers, and doesn't hesitate to show she can fuck you up._

_Unlike Cartman, she's not as psychopathic, so-_

"Hey... You all want to go to Japan?" Cartman asks out of nowhere, sending me flying out of my thoughts.

"Japan!?" I mimic after Cartman.

"R-Really? Are y-ya sure there, Eric?" Butters says, rubbing his knuckles together.

"Of course I'm sure, Butters!" Cartman says, his arm still around Kyle's waist. "And might as well do it now before my little monster gets far enough along where we can't have this trip 'til our kid is fucking fifteen!" Kyle laughs at the 'little monster' part Cartman says, reminding us all of that time Jersey just about took over.

"It'll be more like they are ten, maybe six, if we don't do this now. And besides, we've been planning this for awhile now. I don't want to wait until then." Kyle says, leaning even more profoundly against Cartman.

Stan, on the other hand, eyes them both cautiously before saying, "I still can't get this right in my head." He's still tied to the chair, but he has chilled down quiet a lot since Wendy decided to take drastic measures and slap him a few times before he stopped calling fat ass a "_no good, two-timing, cheating asshole who doesn't deserve Kyle for all the shit he's done to him._" To that I retorted, "_If my memory severs correctly, you were screaming at them just as much as me and my Buttercup that they needed to fuck already back in eighth!_" Oh, he shut up after that, after mumbling something about how he didn't think they really would.

"Stan, really? Just because they are both completely happy that they don't have to continue pretending they still hate each other doesn't give you the right to be weary of their relationship." Wendy says, leaning lightly against his leg from her position on the floor, Bebe fast asleep on with her head on Wendy's lap.

Both Kyle and Cartman turn to her and say: "Who said we were pretending?"

Wendy's eyes bugged out at that, and Butters took a picture (He's making a scrap album of all the times he catches someone with an expression that's ultimately priceless. I can't wait to go through the first one when he finishes it.).

"You guys... Really still fight like that?"

"Yeah. Leads to such great fucking angry sex that by the end, we ain't even mad anymore." Kyle says, catching me, of all people, off guard along with everyone else but Cartman.

"O-oh... I wasn't expecting that answer... Oh, dear... I'm going to step out for a smoke for a minute." Bebe says, having woken up at Wendy's statement, and seemingly fighting her way to the door without anyone even protesting her leave. She's so shaken from that answer she's wobbly.

"It won't be happening any time soon, though. Maybe when we're done completely raising our child, or children if we have more than just one. There is just no why I'm hurting their mother while they're in the same house!" Cartman says just as Bebe opens the front door to step outside.

"Thank God," She says before closing it soundlessly behind her.

"Even though he likes it that way." He finishes, earning a punch on the arm from a blushing, but smiling, Kyle. Cartman just laughs it off.

"At least that stays the same. I think my brain would explode if you were no longer in any kind of fight whatsoever." Stan says, shifting a little in his seat.

"Stan, we've been like that since before preschool. That will never change." Kyle says, leaning back onto Cartman, hugging his boyfriend's arm tightly.

"Ugh... When the hell did the sexual tension start, anyways?"

"Hmm... Don't know, really. Kenny?"

"Oh, let me think here..." I say, my arms around my Buttercups waist as he leans against me, and I against the couch. "I'm guessing it's always been there, but it didn't make itself known 'til around sixth and seventh and eighth and a little bit of ninth before I beat Cartman up for the second time that first semester."

"There's your answer, Stan." Kyle says, turning back to his Super Best Friend.

"Holy fuck, dude... This is just weird."

"Not as weird as Wendy always breaking up with you, then making up, and you being a complete little pussy in between?" Cartman says.

"Shut up, fat ass." Stan says, glaring his little whipped ass heart out.

"AY! I'm not fat, I'm-"

"'Big Boned.'" Everyone, including Kyle, deadpans, mimicking Cartman's accent that often distorts his words.

"Stupid bastards..." Cartman mummers, almost inaudibly. "Still wanna go, though?"

"Of course!" We all yell at him with passion. Even Craig's showing some damned emotion!

Tonight...

Was a beautiful night.

_**AN:**_

_Howdy-Ho ya'll! Haha... Sorry for the wait! School started right after I moved in with my step-sister, and I've just been having too much fun with my Graphics class to actually finish this chapter until now. It's literally killed my brain, I think, with how many ideas I have to churn out for thumbnails we get graded on. 16... 30... I swear, it goes up anymore and I'll possibly pull a Kenny (As in die. But come back. {Skip school, ya'll, I can't die like Kenny does!}) My brain can't work that fast, and it's mostly filled with the names of songs, and now I can hardly name the song Demons by Imagine Dragons at this moment!_

ファック_(Translation: Fuck. {Or so Google Translate tells me.})_


End file.
